


The fox and the little prince

by EmmaSpencer



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: A visit home, And everything fell apart, Bad Decisions, Developing Friendship, Drunk Mycroft, Gen, Greg is a bit not good, Greg's divorce, Hospitals, Inevitable end, Love Confession, M/M, Moving On, Moving Out, Mycroft in the streets again, Mycroft runs away again, Playing a spy, Rape/Non-con Elements, Running Away, Sexy Time, Sick Greg, So we meet again, Uncle Rudy to the rescue, We meet Anthea, Weddings, Years later they meet again, but Greg is there to take him home, greg gets shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-30
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2018-12-21 17:30:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 14
Words: 41,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11949147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmmaSpencer/pseuds/EmmaSpencer
Summary: Mycroft ran away from home when he was 16. He took shelter in the basement of a hospital where he met Greg; which marks the begining of their long friendship.This is the story of their long, sometimes horrifying, sometimes annoyingly human journey towards the inevitable end.





	1. Chapter 1

Mycroft walked out of the room. He was angry, scared, he needed some air to clear his head. He walked out of the hospital, just aimlessly wondering the streets deep in his thoughts.  
'I have to tell them. I have to...oh god I don't want to. It's too late for that. Mummy will kill me. It's my fault, how could I be so stupid...no I can't tell them...I can't. How could I...Idiot...What have I done!'  
Mycroft was walking for hours deep in his thoughts, in the cold without his coat; it was freezing, he started to be hungry. He was swooped off his feet by rushing paramedics looking up he saw that he was in front of another hospital.  
'It'll do.' he went inside and found a hiding place in the basement. It was too late to go exploring so he curled up and fell asleep. He woke in the morning he was shaking from the cold, his stomach was aching. He waited until visiting hours and went upstairs. Fortunately he had practice in being invisible, so he managed to steal some leftover food and retreated to his hiding place. He was still cold, but at lease he wasn’t starving anymore. During the next few days he continued to go up for food, he used the visitor’s bathroom to stay clean. He put aside his consciousness and stole clothes so he can keep up the facade. One afternoon he was out again scavenging when someone startled him.  
"Hi there!" Mycroft turned with panic to see a boy a bit older than him in a wheelchair. "Are you hungry?" Mycroft didn't answer. "I saw you before. Don't worry I won't tell it to anyone." he handed him a little package. The boy was very thin, his skin was gray, he looked very sick only his warm brown eyes shined with mischief.  
"I'm not hungry; I'll just throw it up anyways." Mycroft walked away, but he followed him. "Who are you? Why are you here? Tell me, tell me, please I'm so bored. You are a runaway, am I right? What are you running from? What have you done? What happened to you? I don't think you ran off from a children's home, you don't look the type. You've been here a week now, but you managed to stay perfectly neat. You are used to a certain lifestyle and even under these circumstances you manage to keep it up. But you are also good at stealing, that makes me a little confused. But looking at you; I'm sorry to say this; but you most likely bullied daily, so you had to learn how to be invisible and how to steal your stuff back. Am I right? So why did you run away?"  
"What do you think detective?"  
"Oh he can talk! My name is Greg. What's your? Sit and eat." Mycroft reluctantly sat down.  
"Charles."  
"Nice to meet you." they sat in silence. "Okay. I have to get back now, if you want to you can visit me tomorrow, room 302. I'd like to have someone to talk to, my roommate is an idiot, but you seem like a clever guy."

 

The next day Mycroft lingered around the ward, thinking he shouldn't go in, but he really want to talk to someone.  
"This way cousin Charles!" Greg called out. Mycroft looked around with confusion but there was no one around. "Hey, I'm here!" Greg waved to him. Mycroft followed him to the room. "Finally, I though you gonna stand there all day long. Are you hungry?"  
"A bit."  
"Here you go. I also got you something else." handing Mycroft a warm pullover. "You looked cold."  
"I can't take this."  
"You can and you will."  
"Why are you helping me?"  
"Why not?"  
"Thank you." they sat in silence for a while. The silence felt awkward so Mycroft decided to break it. "What do you do during the day?"  
"Go for a round, vomit, watch my mother trying not to cry, read some comic books, staff like that. I just need someone to talk to."  
"What do you want to talk about?" Mycroft asked hesitantly.  
"Why are you here?" Mycroft stood up. "Wait, stay, it's okay. I won't ask it again, I promise. Sorry." Mycroft sat back. "My name is Gregory Lestrade; I'm 19, currently out of school, enjoying the hospitality of this damned ward. Your turn."  
"My name is Charles, I'm 16 and I should start uni next term."  
"Nice, are you some kind of genius?"  
"Something like that. Don't you want to be a detective? You are moderately good at observing people."  
"Moderately?” he snorted. “Yes that was the plan, following my father's footsteps." His roommate had a visitor; Mycroft looked him up and down.  
"He is married; he has a son and currently sleeping with this kid's mother. Only here because she insisted on it, obviously she doesn't know about the other family. He is a judge; he also has two dogs a corgi and a German Sheppard.”  
"You just made that up."  
"No."  
"Yeah sure."  
"I'll show you. See that toy, it had a ribbon around its neck, most likely with the name of his son, he ripped it off, leaving the bear furless in the places it was sewn in. He clearly didn't care about it, because it could have been covered up or took off properly with no effort at all. The bear’s paws are blue; usually it's for a boy. The son is about 1-1.5 years old, based on the toy’s model and the food stains on his waistcoat. Now the dogs, on his trousers dog hairs; two different size and different colours. I hope I don't have to go in to details with this one. What is left, oh the occupation......"  
Greg just stared him with an open mouth.  
"What?" Mycroft stopped with his monologue.  
"Wow you...that...it's a trick."  
Mycroft sighed, stood up and walked to the man.  
"Your honour, my name is Charles Keaton, nephew of Frank Keaton."  
"Oh yes, yes. How's he?"  
"He died recently."  
"My condolences."  
"Thank you. Sorry to bother you, I just wanted to meet you; my uncle always talked fondly of you."  
"Thank you. He was a really good man; great loss to the bar."  
"In deed. Well I won't keep you further good day." Mycroft sat back to his place.  
"All right Mr. Show off. You know him."  
"No, I don’t. I just read about the death of the lawyer, so I used his name."  
"I don't think so."  
"Are we going to argue about this the whole time, because if that's the case, I'm leaving!"  
"No, please stay." a nurse came in.  
"Tell me about her." Greg asked.  
"Recently divorced after they lost their child; now she lives with two cats, one black and a ginger one, she started school again, recently had her eyes fixed..." Mycroft stopped when she stepped to Greg.  
"My second cousin Charles, I finally managed to get him visit me."  
"Nice to meet you."  
"Ma'am."  
"You have one hour left lads."  
"Thank you." Greg turned to Mycroft.  
"One more, read me!"  
"No! I won't, sorry."  
"Okay I give in; you can read people really well." Mycroft smiled at him. They sat in silence Mycroft fiddling with the pullover.  
"What is it?"  
"I'm sorry. I'm not good at this."  
"Good at what? Talking to the dead?"  
"Talking to people in general; I never had anyone to talk to, not really... I'm sorry."  
"We were just talking a minute ago."  
"That's different. I was deducing, not talking."  
"Then it's good that I found you. You just need practice. Let's start with......movies. What type of movies do you like? Which one is your favourite? I like action movies and noir detective movies..."  
"You do? Me too, I love them. Although my favourite movie is Chaplin's Kid. It's just...I..." Mycroft stopped and looked around cautiously.  
"I haven't seen that jet, if I think back I never saw anything from him. Shame on me, he is a great milestone in film history, but I never got around to watch anything from him."  
"I suggest you do. They’re really funny, sometimes sad, he writes and acts really well..." someone came in. "I really should go now." he stood up.  
"Will you come back tomorrow?"  
"I don't know...maybe."

Mycroft went back to his hiding place, the pullover was a great help. He felt strange; happy and confused at the same time. 'Why would anyone want to talk to me? No one ever wanted to. He just needs a distraction; I seemed interesting that's why he approached me. That must be it, not that I mind, finally someone who doesn’t want to beat me up. I haven't thought that I'm going to miss talking with someone this much. He was genuinely interested in what I said...strange.'  
The next day he went up earlier. They talked about more films, the weather, Greg's adventures on the ward; everything seemed fine until Greg fell silent.  
"What happened?"  
"One of my friends died in the morning."  
"I'm sorry."  
"Are you? Really?” he snapped. “They all say that and then they look you up and down waiting for you to drop. They dance around you like you're china; I hate it! Hate all of this; they can't do a thing to cure me! There's nothing else they can do, but still I'm pumped with this bloody stuff, making me puke my guts out. I just want it to end. I don't care about anything or anybody else anymore; I just want this to end! That way no one will look at me like I'm already dead, no one will treat me like this! You have no idea how much I want that. Maybe I should run away too, and jump off a bridge or lie down in front of a train. My mother won't have to suffer anymore; she's suffering even more than me, dad at least understands..."  
Mycroft wanted to say something, but he felt that silence might be better this time. Greg sighed. "Thank you."  
"Whatever for?"  
"For listening and not looking at me like they do."  
"Any time."  
They resumed their unfinished conversation.

 

When Mycroft came back the next day Greg was in a pretty bad shape.  
"Hi there!" he greeted Mycroft weakly.  
"Hello. I better leave..."  
"Don't go, please."  
"You need to rest."  
"I'm resting as you can see." he was clearly not well, but Mycroft obeyed and sat down.  
"Today's practice will be about books, but you have to talk, I'm a bit tired..."  
"Okay...books, books...I can do this..." Mycroft muttered glancing hesitantly at Greg who smiled faintly. "You read a lot I presume."  
"Yes, a lot, but those are not too interesting to you. I read lot’s of historical books, also economy, politics, languages, anything I can get my hands on really. Of course I read all the classics and a few modern one too, but I had to put them aside I have to concentrate on my future...so you see not too interesting. I'm planning to follow my uncle, he works for the government; I know it sounds boring, but what he does is different...I’m not supposed to talk about it; sorry. I know I said that I'm not good with people; well actually...I can see through them easily, I can talk to them when I need something from them. It's like I'm two people at once. One that could talk himself out from every problem, charm everybody, even manipulate them if needed......and the other who can't make it through a sentence about books. See I’m not even talking about books anymore, sorry......Casual talking, it's not my area, as you already know. From the first day in school they’ve only beaten me, no one wanted to be my friend, no one wanted to talk to me. So I resigned and I only talked when I had no other choice. But with you, it's strange...I mean different because I can see that you have no hidden motives, you are really interested in me...you just want to talk and it turns out that I want that too...I don’t want to disappoint you by being an idiot, blabbing about pointless matters...which is exactly what am I doing now...but you being really interested in me makes it even harder to talk. I know it sounds stupid, but still I can't help it..." Mycroft talked until Greg fell asleep, then he quietly slipped out of the room.

 

The next day he wasn't allowed to see Greg. He was about to go and explore other parts of the hospital, when someone pointed at him. "That one!" and then a security guard was after him. "Stop there, hey you! Kid, don't run!" Mycroft turned and ran away.


	2. Chapter 2

He was out again in the streets, it was freezing, the pullover was warm, but not warm enough. Mycroft wondered around the city, trying to figure out what to do next. 'I can't go home, no. Not after this, what will I get for it...Mummy would kill me; now even more, I can't. I don’t want to...god I’m scared so much. I’m scared of her more than anything...not true...I’m more scared for Sherlock. What have I done? What? No, I won’t go home, I don’t deserve that, not any more. Where now? I need a safe and dry place and food...yes. But where?' He walked aimlessly around the city, never stopping, trying to keep himself warm. 'Restaurants! They dump too much food out. That's it! Dumpster hunting, here I come! God this is humiliating. Hey, you can choose; home and the never ending look of hatred from them; or this...This will do.' he debated in himself.  
Mycroft was going through a dumpster. 'Actually it's not that bad, most of the stuff is still in boxes...'  
"Hey, what are you doing here?" Mycroft turned to see two younger men standing behind him.  
"I...just..."  
"This is our place! Get lost!" Mycroft turned to leave when one of them grabbed his arm. "Not so fast, first we'll teach you a lesson." This wasn't new to Mycroft; soon he was on the ground curled up to a tight ball trying to protect his head from the kicks.  
"Stop it! Leave him alone." someone yelled, the kicks stopped and they left him on the ground. "Are you all right?" the newcomer stepped to him and placed a hand to his shoulder.  
"Yes, thank you." Mycroft sat up.  
"My name is Steve. What's yours?"  
"Charles." they shook hands, Steve was smiling at him broadly.  
"Here take my coat, you must be cold. Don't worry I have another one." he added before Mycroft could protest.  
"Thank you." he took it gratefully.  
"I have a place nearby; it's not much but dry and not this cold, if you want to come."  
"I would like that, thank you." Mycroft whispered. They walked to an abandoned factory.  
"I know it looks creepy, but it’s dry. Don't worry no one else is here.” when he saw that Mycroft was looking around with caution. “Are you hungry?"  
Mycroft nodded.  
"Here. Tomorrow we go and look for more, you can do better than dumpster hunting, I’ll show you. You are new out here, I can tell." Mycroft nodded again.  
"No worries, I won't ask questions. I can teach you how to survive."  
"Thank you."  
"Sure thing. A quick tour. This is my bedroom, there is a bathroom through there, there’s water in the barrel...and the other parts are for you to discover. Are you hurt? Any wounds?”  
“No, I don’t think so.”  
“Let me see.” before Mycroft could protest he stepped to him and his hands were on Mycroft’s head looking for injuries, then he took off his coat and did the same with his arms and torso. “Nothing broken!” Steve announced with a smile. “I think you had enough for today, so let's get some sleep. If you don't mind we should sleep together to keep each other warm; also because I only have one blanket. Do you mind?"  
Mycroft was a bit hesitant, but finally he shook his head.  
"Good. You don't speak much, not that I mind." he smiled.  
Mycroft felt strange being cuddled by a total stranger, but it was better than freezing to death. His anxiety passed with the following days. Steve showed him places where he could get food, or clothes, places where he could wash his clothes, or take a shower. How he can avoid the others, or how to protect himself if something happens, where to go if he needs medical help, so on. In exchange Mycroft taught him how to be better at pick pocketing. They got on pretty well; Mycroft was good at observing, so they always picked the best targets, always found the best places. Steve was well built, strong a bit intimidating, so no one dared to bother them. Mycroft still didn’t talk much, but Steve didn’t mind, he talked enough for the both of them. 

One night they settled to sleep as usual, when Steve got his hand under his shirt and started to stroke Mycroft's side; he froze at first. Steve’s hand was on his chest and finally stopped on his groin. Mycroft tired to get away from him. “Stop it, please, NO!” but Steve firmly held him with his other arm. "Let go of me!"  
"Oh no, darling, not yet." he shifted, so now he was lying on top of Mycroft, pinning him down. Steve started to kiss him, Mycroft tried to turn his head away, but then he started to bite his neck while he rubbed himself against Mycroft. “Ouch! Stop it, no don’t do that!” Mycroft wouldn't stop struggling.  
"Don't play hard to get my dear. You know you'll gonna enjoy it. I took it slow, so we can get to know each other." he was stroking his face this time. Mycroft gave out a little whimper in response. "Shhhh darling, it's okay. You do this for me, and I'll do the same. Don't you want that?" Steve sat up, pinning him down by his waist; his forearm was on his neck. Mycroft tried to kick him, or use his hands, but Steve had practice in it, he easily avoided every attempt. He forced Mycroft’s left hand under his knee. “Darling, my beautiful, wild darling boy. You’ll be so much fun.” he chuckled. “Most of them start like this, but...Just keep struggling my dear; it’ll be an extra pleasure, I’m sure of it...Talking about pleasure.” he reached down, unbuttoned his trouser and took his already hardening penis out. “You have beautiful hands my dear, nice long fingers...” Steve grabbed Mycroft's free hand and took each of his fingers to his mouth. "NO! Let go of me! LET ME GO!"  
"That's not gonna happen. Now darling use your beautiful hand." he brought his hand to his penis.  
Mycroft closed his eyes. 'How could I be so blind? How?’ he felt Steve’s forearm pressing down on his neck, he gasped for air. ‘Maybe if I do this, I'll be able to get away when he falls asleep...' he took hold of Steve's erect penis and started to move his hand up and down. "That's it darling. You know what to do...oh yes... just like that...oh...OH...that’s it...yes...faster, faster!” he kept moaning and biting Mycroft's neck until he spilled cum on Mycroft. He remained sitting on him and leaned in to kiss Mycroft who was too out of it to protest. "You did great my darling. I knew you would, I have an eye for it. We’re going to have so much fun together.” he dressed up. “Come on I have something for you in return." Steve pulled Mycroft up, who again tried to get out of his hold only to be punched on the stomach. He collapsed from it, so Steve dragged him down to the basement.  
"Your own room." he announced as he pushed Mycroft into a room. He turned to run, but the door was closed in front of him.  
"Let me out! Please let me out!" he shouted.  
"Shout as much as you like, no one can hear you, no one is coming my darling." he walked away laughing. Mycroft slid down and crawled to the corner; he took deep breaths trying really hard not to throw up, but he couldn’t keep it down. He was shaking from the cold and the sobs. His clothes were covered in cum and vomit, the room smelled foul. 'How could I be so blind, how? I should have seen it. Oh god, how am I going to get out of this!' he was up all night not being able to fell asleep. The morning light peaked in from a tiny barred window; no glass, Mycroft let out a little chuckle. ‘Of course not, I can’t even take the easy way out...’ The room was empty, there was a small hole in one of the corners leading to a floor below, it was too small to get through. Mycroft could see that he wasn't the first to occupy the room; scratch marks, blood and other stains were visible on the walls and floor.

The door suddenly few open, Steve came in and closed it behind him.  
"Morning darling. I brought you something to eat." Mycroft stayed in the corner. "Come here, I won't bite." he chuckled. "I also brought you tea, it's still warm. You see, you only have to do as you told and I take care of you in return." he stepped closer to Mycroft, who tried to get further away from him, but there was nowhere to go. "Last night you were magnificent..." he bent down to stroke Mycroft's face, but before he could do so Mycroft spit on his face, Steve punched him in return."No, no my darling. Not like this. You realise how easy it would be to drug you? Then I could do whatever I want. What ever I want. But I'm a gentleman, so I won't; not yet. I'm going to give you time to think about my offer. But until you behave like this, there’s no food, nor water." Mycroft was again left alone, he didn’t know how much time passed, he could only concentrate in how cold and thirsty he was. So he just lied in the corner, hoping that it'll end soon. 

 

Steve came back on the second day's morning; Mycroft didn't bother to open his eyes. "I brought you tea darling. Come on, get up." Mycroft was pulled into a sitting position. "Open your eyes!" he was slapped. "Now; open your eyes!" he did it. "Good morning sleeping beauty.” Steve stroked his face then he started to take down Mycroft’s clothes.  
“No! NO! Don’t touch me! Don’t you dare touching me!” he screamed, but he was too weak to stop him. Mycroft was almost naked, his eyes were filled with panic; Steve poured a bucket of ice cold water on him, Mycroft was shivering uncontrollably. “Put these on.” he dropped clean shirt, trousers and a pullover to his lap. Mycroft hurriedly put them on. “What do we say daring?” Mycroft just stared at him coldly until he was hit again. “Hmmm?”  
“Thanks.” he mumbled.  
“No, no properly.”  
“Thank you Steve.”  
“Better. Now to the tea and the food." he took a sip and a bite from it and put it next to Mycroft. "You see, it's fine. If you want it..." Steve sat to his lap and stroked Mycroft's hands. "...you know what to do."

Mycroft was left with his shame and the tea. 'How could I fell this deep? I shouldn't have, given in...I would have died from starvation and the lack of water...slow agonising death, the one I deserve...I won't do this, not again; never! I won't!' Steve kept coming back, but Mycroft didn't obey. He just lied in the corner, staring blankly, taking the punches and kicks without a word, hoping it will end soon, when suddenly some renewed want to live took over him. 'I can't overpower him, I'm not strong enough...the knife! If I can get it...' the next time Steve came back Mycroft stood up in shaky legs.  
"What now darling?" Steve asked cautiously. Mycroft closed the spot between them and kissed him. "A good kisser too. I knew I chose well." Steve whispered when they parted. Mycroft kissed him again, this time moving his hands up and down his body. "Looks like this is my lucky day." Steve said with an evil smile.  
"Yes it is." Mycroft answered hoarsely and stabbed the knife into his neck. Steve's hand flew to his neck; he fell to his knees then his body fell to the ground. Mycroft looked at his hands; they were covered in blood, than he realised that his clothes were also soaked with it. He dropped the knife took the key out of Steve’s pocket and ran as fast as he could, tripping constantly. It doesn't matter where he was; he just wanted to get far away. 

 

He curled up on the cold ground just lying there for hours; he couldn't find the strength to move. After a while the snow started to fell, covering his body like a blanket. When his mind finally rebooted, he got up. He was glad that it snowed so he could clean his hands and face at least. It was time to look for a shelter, and some food, luckily he ended up in a rather good area. He was careful not to meet anyone; not this time! He finally found shelter in an attic. During the day the streets were full of people hurriedly walking, covering themselves from the snow, not paying enough attention. Mycroft was always good at pick pocketing, and the conditions made it even easier. This way he could eat properly, but first of all he needed a change of clothes and a coat.

He wasn’t sure how long he was living out in the streets, but he still didn’t want to go home. One evening he was going through the day's reap, when he found something interesting. It was just a piece of paper; for the normal eye it seemed like scribbling, but it wasn't. It was a code; only took him a few minutes to crack it. There were several names; British agents in Russia.  
'Now what? Uncle Rudy? No, not yet, I need to know more about this. He would want me to answer all of his questions, as always. If I’m to go back at least do something helpful at first. That might ease the damage; maybe uncle Rudy will be willing to help me that way.'  
He remembered the owner of the wallet, Thomas Denton he saw him every day. The next day he followed him to work; Mycroft sat on the other side of the road watching the building’s entrance. During lunchtime he left the office and went to the park close by he sat in a bench talking on his phone. Mycroft couldn’t get close enough to hear what he was saying. Thomas went back to the office quite agitated. Later Mycroft followed him home; he peaked in through the window. He was sitting at the kitchen table, holding a picture; he was crying.  
'So, his family is kidnapped to ensure he will give them the names. What should I do what should I do?' An idea occurred to him. He made his appearance acceptable and rung the bell.  
"Good evening Sir. I found this wallet up the road, this address was in it."  
Thomas took it with shaking hands; relief appeared in his face as soon as he opened it. "Thank you, thank you very much. Here let me..." he took out all the money from his wallet.  
"No need Sir. I'm glad I could help. Good evening!"  
Mycroft hid in the bushes, Thomas left the house an hour later. He followed him back to the park, where he met another man. The paper was handed over; they were arguing about his family which ended with Thomas being hit on the head, and left on the ground. Mycroft followed the other man on the streets; he was heading for a car. Mycroft hoped he would walk a bit further, but he took his chances. He managed to take the paper and walked away hurriedly, but suddenly his arm was grabbed.  
"Give it back, and I won't call for the police." he wasn't Russian; he was British! Mycroft didn't react, so he twisted his arm until it broke; he cried out in pain. "Give it back." Mycroft lifted his other arm, but instead of giving it to him, he swallowed the paper. The man tried to stop him, force his mouth open, but he was too late.  
"You little bastard." he took out the pipe he used before to beat Mycroft. They were on the streets but they were empty, no one heard Mycroft's screams. Finally he was dropped to the ground. It was cold; pain clouded his mind, he saw the man get into a car before he slid into unconsciousness. 

 

Mycroft was lucky a drunk fell over him. The sight of a half dead boy sobered him immediately. Mycroft had a broken arm, several broken ribs, punctured lung, ruptured spleen. They operated on him for hours, until they managed to stabilise him. He had been in intensive care for two weeks, when he finally woke up.  
Mycroft realised that the game must end, things turned serious. 'I shouldn't have got mixed up in this; I should have gone to uncle Rudy right away. How could I be so stupid! God, I'm an idiot. I'm like Sherlock but instead of pirates I pretended to be a spy. I should have gone to him, they could have solved it easily...or I should have dropped the note at his place...if I’d known where he lives...bloody security mania...'  
Mycroft told the doctor his name and his uncle's contact details. Uncle Rudy arrived soon after; he sat by the bed until Mycroft woke up again.  
"Mycroft! Welcome back."  
"Elisabeth Freely, Timothy Lewis..." he said weakly  
"What is this?" he asked, his face suddenly turned serious.  
"272 D 42"  
"Mycroft?"  
"License plate number. Thomas Denton..."  
"What about him?"  
"Thomas had a list...British agents in Russia, I got hold of it. His family was missing to ensure his compliance...I gave it back and followed him...I wanted to collect more information about the situation before I talk to you, I know you’d have questions...I wanted to answer them, all of them...the other man, also British...I stole back the list... he didn't have time to read it..." Mycroft drifted off.  
"Jesus Mycroft! What have you done!"

 

When Mycroft woke again, he was in another room, there was a man sitting by the door. He started to panic, they found him! He just lied there very still, some time passed but nothing changed; finally his uncle came in and dismissed the man.  
"Don't worry, he works for me. They are here to protect you. Mycroft are you sure about the car, it was dark you were beaten up pretty badly. Think about it."  
"I'm sure. He was British, upper class, 180 cm, 95 kg, right handed, small scar above his right eye, dark hair..."  
"This is a serious matter Mycroft. How could you be so foolish? You should have come to me! Idiot boy, it's not a game! You have no idea what you got yourself into!" he was pacing angrily.  
"I'm sorry."  
"Sorry won't solve a thing you idiot! You have no idea who are you accusing..."  
Mycroft tried to hold back his tears; his uncle saw it, and sat next to him.  
"Stop it! What good crying will do! Hmm? It won't stop them from finding you, getting the names out of you and then kill you!" Mycroft couldn't stop the sobs. "Mycroft..." he continued in a softer tone. "Please don't cry. I'm sorry, I'm just...You are safe here; I made sure of that they won't find you, I promise. I can't call your mother, not jet; not until the matters got settled. I believe she can wait a little longer. Three months, Mycroft you've been missing for more than three months now. Why?" He couldn't answer; Uncle Rudy carefully hugged him and held him until he calmed down.  
“Sherlock.” he said finally.  
“Oh...”  
“It was an accident, you have to believe me.”  
“I believe you; don’t worry. Sherlock woke up not long after you disappeared. He is fine; no damage...well it’s hard to tell with him what to call normal.” he smiled faintly. “Anyways he is all right; I promise.”  
“Thank you.” he whispered.  
“You should rest now.” he arranged the blanket around him and walked out.

 

When Mycroft woke the next day someone new was in his room."  
"Hi there, it's good to see you again."  
"How did you get in here?" Mycroft asked with panic in his voice.  
"I asked them to let me see my good old friend, Mycroft."  
"How do you know my name?"  
"The nurse told me, the one with the cats if you remember. She told me that my cousin Charles, whose name actually Mycroft, is here. So I befriended the guy at the door and here I am."  
"You look much better Gregory. I was a bit worried when they wouldn't let me see you."  
"Thanks, I'm actually better, I'm going to live." he smiled. "You on the other hand look horrid."  
"Feel like that too."  
"I let you rest. I’ll come and see you tomorrow."  
"Why?"  
"Why not?"  
"You wouldn't want to talk to me if you'd know the truth." Mycroft whispered.  
"I promised I won't ask, but what happened?"  
"I almost killed my little brother. I was hiding in the tree house, he found me and started to mock me, like my classmates. I was angry and threw a book at him...he slipped and fell. He was in a coma; the doctors said he'll never wake up. Thankfully he did, he's fine according my uncle."  
"That's why you ran away."  
"I didn't want to hurt him; it was an accident you have to believe me...I'd never hurt him, I love him...it was just an accident Gregory."  
"Accidents happen, he is fine and that's all that matters. Now you need rest, see you tomorrow, Mycroft."

 

When Greg came back the next day Mycroft was still hazy from the drugs, he regarded Greg with caution.  
"What's wrong Mycroft? I'm not going to hurt you, no hidden motives, just here to talk. You can see that, don't you?"  
"I'm not so sure, the painkiller makes it harder to see. Sorry..."  
"It's okay, I can come back later, but only if you want it too."  
"Please stay."  
"Do you want to talk?" Mycroft shook his head. "Do you mind if I talk?"  
"No." Greg sat by his bed talking about the last comic book he read, Mycroft slowly drifted back to sleep. He woke to someone calling his name telling him to calm down and stroking his hair. His eyes shot open. "Don't touch me!...No! I won't do that!"  
"Mycroft?" Greg asked hesitantly. He was still sitting next to the bed his hands in the air, with genuine worry in his eyes. "I'm sorry Mycroft. You had a nightmare, I just tried to wake you up or calm you down, nothing else. I'm sorry." he didn't answer. Greg left to bring another blanket, carefully not to touch the shaking Mycroft he covered him with it.  
"I'll better go now." he turned to leave, but to his surprise Mycroft grabbed his hand.  
"Please stay." he whispered pleadingly.  
"Are you sure?"  
"Please." Greg sat down, holding his hand, after a while Mycroft started to talk. "I was a fool, an idiot...I've always read people so easily, I don't know what happened, but when I realised it, it was too late..." Mycroft's hold tightened on his hand. "He...he wanted me to..."  
"You don't have to tell me anything." Greg whispered.  
"I need to; I have to tell it to someone......No, no. I'm sorry; I shouldn't burden you with it." Mycroft snuggled deeper under the blankets.  
"No, no Mycroft, it's not a problem. I'm happy to help. I’ll listen, if that's what you need. I’m here; I’ll listen."  
"Are you sure?"  
"Yes Mycroft." Greg answered reassuringly.  
"It was cold so we slept closely together. At first nothing happened, one night he started touching me...I wanted to get away, but he was too strong...he...he wanted me to do the same. I thought that I'll be able to get away once he fell asleep so I did it..." Mycroft tired to pull his hand away, but Greg didn't let him. "He closed me into the basement. He wanted me to do more, he wanted me to comply...I didn't...I didn't Gregory...I did nothing else...He kept me closed up...finally I got away by..." he couldn't continue.  
"You are safe Mycroft, there are two men standing by the door. There is a list of people who can come to your room; they won't let anyone else in. You are safe here; I'm not going to harm you..."  
"You got in here."  
"Yeah, I played the dying kid card, shameful I know...Although today I was on the list."  
"Yes, I asked them to let you in. You and your family got a free background check so you can come in."  
"Thanks, I guess." Mycroft smiled faintly.

 

Mycroft hasn't seen his uncle for a week, when he finally walked in and collapsed to the chair.  
"It's over." Mycroft wanted to ask him countless of questions, but he silenced him with a look. "I called your mother; they'll be here tomorrow morning. I told her you went out for air and got kidnapped. You were severely beaten; they thought you died, so your body was dumped. You were in a coma for two weeks, and it was one more until you recovered your memories. I told her not to ask about it; hopefully she'll keep it, if not make up something."  
"Thank you."  
"Thank you Mycroft. You helped; a lot. But next time, don't be so stupid."

Mycroft was still asleep when his parents and Sherlock arrived. His mother gently shook Mycroft's shoulder. "Mycroft, Mycroft." he jerked awake, with panic in his eyes. It took him a minute to realise where he was.  
"Mummy?"  
"I'm here darling." she was sitting on the bed with tears in her eyes. "We are here." she hugged him. Mycroft never liked when she hugged him, but now he wouldn't let go of her. They sat there his mother talking, Mycroft tightly holding onto her. Sherlock stood in the corner with clear annoyance. They were about to leave, but Sherlock stayed behind for a minute.  
"At least you are not fat anymore."  
"What?"  
"I woke up, but everybody was occupied with your disappearance. It was your fault I ended up there, but Mummy was crying about you all day long. Finally she accepted that you were gone, but then you had to turn up."  
"Have you told it to Mummy?"  
"Not yet." he said with a grin.  
"Thank you." Mycroft whispered, Sherlock didn't answer, just left.  
Uncle Rudy came back for his hat.  
"You should have cried in front of your mother, for more dramatic effect."  
"Sherlock..."  
"I know. Are you going to let your 9 years old brother boss you around from now on?"  
"He will tell Mummy."  
"AND? What can she do to you, that haven’t been done already?"  
"She'll hate me."  
"So suddenly you care about that."  
"I do, she is my mother."  
"Then stop it. It won't do you any good. Haven't you learned a thing?"  
"Should I tell her then?"  
"It's up to you. She won't be happy about it, but I know my sister, she will forget it quickly. They let you go home in a few days."

Mycroft was brought back from his thoughts by a knock.  
"Come in Gregory."  
"Those were your parents?"  
"Yes."  
"I thought you only had an uncle. Why didn't you tell me?"  
"I don't know...I did something really really stupid, I mean it; I compromised the nation's security. My uncle needed to sort it out, until that I had to remain hidden."  
"That's why the guys in black were here."  
"Yes, but it's over now."  
"Good. Your parents must been worried sick." Mycroft didn't answer. "What's the matter?"  
"I haven't told them what happened with Sherlock. I hoped that he won't remember, but he does. I don't know what to do now."  
"What did your brother say?"  
"He won't tell her, not yet."  
"I think you should. It'll be bad for a while, but I think she'll forgive you. After all both of you are safe and well."  
"I'll think about it."  
"Good luck with it. I actually came to say goodbye, they are letting me go home today. This is my address." he handed him a paper. "If you want to visit or write or whatever." Greg held out his hand for a handshake, but Mycroft pulled him into a hug instead. "Thank you for everything Gregory."  
"Any time."


	3. Chapter 3

Greg opened the front door.  
"Mycroft?" Mycroft was standing on the doorstep soaking wet. More than three months passed since Greg last saw or heard anything from him. "Come in. What happened? Mycroft talk to me!" he didn't answer. Greg gave him dry clothes and showed him to the bathroom. Despite the paleness and the sniffling Mycroft seemed all right. When he came out of the bathroom Greg wrapped a blanket around him and put warm tea into his hands.  
"What happened?" Greg scanned him worriedly.  
"I told my mother the truth." Mycroft whispered finally. "We had an argument. She said she wishes I remained dead. She said that I am a liar and that I deserve what I got." Mycroft tried to stop the tears. "She said that I never loved Sherlock, that I couldn’t accept him, I was jealous of him. She said I did that on purpose...She said she doesn’t want to see me again; so I granted her wish."  
"You ran away again." Greg sighed. "When?"  
"Three days ago."  
"You came straight here?"  
"Yes, I had to walk; they would have found me on a bus or on a train. I'm sorry, I didn't know where else to go."  
"First of all I'm glad you came here Mycroft; thank you. Now I need a phone number. We have to call your parents, let them know that you are safe."  
“She doesn’t care about me! She got what she wanted...” Mycroft pulled the blanket tighter around himself.  
"Mycroft please. It'll only make it worse..." Mycroft snorted, but before he could answer the front door opened. "We are home!" Greg's mother announced. "Oh, who is he?" she asked surprised when she saw Mycroft in the living room.  
"A friend of mine, he ran away. I want to call his parents, but he won't give me the number."  
"Hi there! My name is Nora.” she sat next to Mycroft. “Could you tell me the number? Please, your mother must be worried sick. I know I would be. No matter what happened, she'd be happy to know that you are safe. I’m sure of it...please."  
“What’s his name?” she turned to Greg.  
“Mycroft.”  
“Mycroft dear, I know that you are scared now, but I can assure you they’ll be relieved to have you back...Please.” there was no answer "Let your father try."  
"I'm not sure; I want an answer not scaring him to death." he mumbled.  
"Someone called for me?" his father came in. "Who is your friend?"  
"Mycroft Holmes."  
"Are you sure?" he suddenly turned serious.  
"Yes. Why?"  
"All the stations are looking for him. I better call in." he left to make the call.  
"All right tomorrow we are taking him home. His uncle is a real piece of work, if I may say so. He wanted to pick him up, but by the sound of him that wouldn't be a pleasant experience for your friend, so I thought we can do it, give a little time to them to calm down, process the fact that he's safe." Mycroft had nothing to say to that since he was already asleep. Greg gently shook him awake.  
"Mycroft dinner."  
"I'm not hungry."  
"When was the last time you ate?" there was no answer. "Just as I thought. Come on Mycroft..."   
"Where should we put him? Sofa?" Greg's mother asked after dinner.  
"Tonight is match night." his father was already on his way to the living room.  
"We can put him in my room and I can sleep on the sofa."   
"You can't sleep properly on the sofa Greg. You need to rest."  
"But mom..."  
"Greg look at him, he's technically asleep right now; at the table, I don't think he'll mind."  
"He was out for three days in this weather; he needs to rest....Mom, please.”  
"Do as you like." she said with a sigh.  
Mycroft had no idea about the events surrounding him, he was put to bed and immediately drifted back to sleep.  
"What's the story with him?" Greg's father asked when he got back to the living room.  
"Few months ago his brother fell off a tree, it was an accident; he didn't mean to harm him. That's when Mycroft first ran away; he got home after...you don’t want to hear that part. Three days ago he told the truth to his mother, she wasn't too happy about it as you can imagine; so he ran away again."  
"I see. Where did you meet him?"  
"Hospital, he didn't have it easy."  
“Why did he come to you?”  
“I'm not sure. I know he has no other friends...I’m sure he knew that I'll get him back home if he comes here. Anyways I'm just glad he came here...”

"We are here! Come on Mycroft get up." Greg announced as the car stopped. Mycroft was curled up on the backseat his head resting in Greg’s lap.  
"I don't want to go." he whispered.  
"You have to; come on."  
"No!"  
"Mycroft, please."  
"No!"  
"There is your mother, see! She looks relieved that you are back, she's not angry."  
"Not now, but she'll be." Greg dragged him out of the car.  
His father was already talking to his parents.  
"...but otherwise he's in one piece."  
"Thank you very much."  
"Not at all, it was actually my son Greg who looked after him..."  
Mycroft slipped by them unnoticed and went up to his room.  
"Where is he? Greg?" Greg looked around with disbelief.  
"Not again...Mycroft!" Greg found him upstairs. "I FOUND HIM!" he shouted. "I'm going to put a bell around your neck. You have to promise me, that you’ll stop with this disappearing act." Mycroft mumbled under the blanket, Greg pulled it off his head. "I can't hear you. Do you promise?"  
"Yes." he whispered.  
"Good...stop it."  
"Stop what?"  
"Thinking that you are an idiot."  
"But I am; mistakes upon mistakes upon mistakes. I suppose to be a genius..."  
"You are Mycroft but until now you lived your life in a bubble."  
"In a what?"  
"A bubble, but it's okay most of us do. You spent your life at home and school. You had everything you needed, food, a safe place, love... You learned everything you could from books, but this can't be learned from books. Normally you go to college; it's a bit bigger bubble, with less safety net, but still one. You meet new people, gain experience, learn how to live your life away from your parents...You had no experience with real life when you decided to jump into it. You were on your own, you didn't know how to react, what to do, who to trust. It's my fault too; I’m sorry. I helped you so you trusted me and hoped that others can be trusted too. He seemed decent, he helped you, so you started to trust him....There are people who can be trusted Mycroft don't make the wrong assumptions. You went through things no one should..."  
Mycroft's mother came up.  
"I better be going. Don't forget your promise. Take care Mycroft."  
"Goodbye Gregory!"

His mother sat next to him. "I'm sorry Mycroft. I didn't mean what I said, you have to believe me. I was angry and I wasn't thinking rationally. You should have told us earlier, that way all of this could have been avoided. I would have been angry, but......You should have told us, none of this would have happened to you. I know you love Sherlock, more than anything; I know you wouldn’t harm him deliberately, I know it...you always protected him...I'm just so happy that you are back; we were worried sick when you disappeared again. Please don't do this again, please. We love you no matter what, you have to remember this. I love you."  
“What if he’d not waken up? What if...?”  
“I don’t know my dear, but please don’t think of that. There is no need to dwell on the what ifs. He’s safe and fine, you both are.”  
"I'm sorry mummy, I am; for everything. Truly, it was just an accident. It was...I love him, I just...I didn’t mean to harm him...sorry..." Mycroft mumbled between sobs.  
"I know, I know." she kept stroking his hair. "Me too my dear."

Late at night Sherlock sneaked to his room.  
"Wake up!"  
"What is it Sherlock?"  
"Why did you tell it mummy?"  
"Why not...I didn't want to wait around for you to use it against me."  
"I wouldn't do that."  
"Sure." Mycroft buried his face to the pillow.  
"I wouldn't My...I told you I won't"  
"I wasn't so sure. I should have told her right away."  
"I'm sorry Mycroft."  
"Whatever for? I brought it on myself."  
"I just...I shouldn't have said those things. You did nothing to deserve it."  
"You just saw it in school and hoped that way you can fit in so you decided to try it on me. It doesn't worth it Sherlock. I'm sorry too, I overreacted."  
"Who was he?"  
"My friend."  
"Your what? Since when?"  
"Not long, I met him in the hospital."  
"Why did you go to him?"  
"I'm not sure."  
"I don't need friends, I'm fine like this."  
"For now, you think this. It's not a bad thing to have someone to talk to, who..."  
"But they are too slow."  
"With the right person you won't realise it."  
"Mycroft you are sick."  
"I know, I have a cold."  
"Nope, you are in love."  
"Don't be ridiculous Sherlock."  
"You are, now move aside." Sherlock pushed Mycroft aside so he could settle next to him.  
"He seems okay. You have my approval."  
Mycroft sighed and wrapped his arms around him. "Thanks, but nothing will happen."  
"Why not? He clearly likes you."  
"I don't even know if he's gay."  
"Ask him."  
"It's not that easy Sherlock."  
"It is. Or deduce it."  
"I can't."  
"Why?"  
"My feelings for him make it harder to see. I might misinterpret the signs."  
"Then I'll do it for you, but I think he likes you."  
"Please don't. Good night Sherlock."  
"Good night Mycroft. What is his name?"  
"Gregory."

 

 

Mycroft and Greg were exchanging letters all summer long.   
In the autumn they both started school. Mycroft had to move in with his uncle because his parents wouldn't have it other way. But that gave them plenty of time, to meet and talk, soon they became best friends.

Greg was woken by a loud knock.  
"All right, I'm coming, I'm coming!" he opened the door grumpily. "Mycroft? What happened?"  
Mycroft marched into his dorm room and dropped to the chair.  
"Mycroft?" Greg asked cautiously.  
"I hate him."  
"Who?"  
"My uncle. My classmates invited me to study with them; my uncle wants to forbid me to do so. He says that they only invited me so they can use me; I know that, I'm not blind. But I don't care, I want to go, I want to socialise, I want to talk to other people, I want to feel like I belong somewhere. They only need help with studying, they are not planning to kill me or rape me. If it was for him I would sit home all day long, working for him, solving his problems. I can't leave the house without telling him, and even then I have to be home by nine. I spend my weekends in the office going through files, translating...Who is using who? I wanted to go home in the weekend to see my parents and my brother, but he wouldn't let me. He tells me to stop caring about them; he says that personal connections are useless, that it's a distraction, a weakness. He says I have to be..." Mycroft spoke without stopping for air.  
"You are drunk." Greg sunk to his bed.  
"I might be."  
"Where did you get alcohol?"  
"My uncle has a collection; I just took one...or two bottles."  
"Of what?"  
"Wine. Why is he doing this to me? I just want a normal life, or at least a few normal years before the job consumes me, like it did with him. I don't want to be like him!"  
"Then why are you still working for him?"  
"Because I have no other option. This is the only thing that'll satisfy me, there's nothing else for me, I'd go mad without it. I can solve problems no one else can. It's amazing, Gregory...it is! You can’t imagine how much I love it! I want it!"  
"Does he know where you are?"  
"He's out of the country...I don't feel well."  
"Are you surprised? Come on, the toilet is down the hall." they managed to get there in time. "Are you okay?"  
"No." Mycroft whispered and looked at him miserably, Greg just giggled. "Now let's get you to bed."  
"I don't want to." Mycroft whined.  
"Yes you do."  
"Why are you laughing at me?"  
"I'm not laughing Mycroft."  
"Oh...I'm sorry Gregory. All I do is causing problems, I'm sorry you have to do this. I'm so sorry."  
"It's okay Mycroft, it's better that you are here. What would we do if someone found you in the streets? I'm sure your uncle wouldn't let you out of the house without a black suited chaperon. Now you have to sleep." Greg put him to bed, Mycroft sat up; he wouldn't stop talking.  
"I'm sorry Gregory. I'm a burden, I always am. I do nothing just mistakes, you have to look after me constantly." Greg pushed him back.  
"It's okay Mycroft, now..." he sat up again.  
"I hate myself for it. I love you and I hate that I cause so many problems to you. I'm so sorry, I love you Gregory...I'm sorry Gregory..." Mycroft settled back.

Mycroft woke up to Greg's alarm, the noise was too loud, the light was too bright and his head ached like hell. He sat up with great effort.  
"Morning Mycroft. Here drink." Greg handed him a glass of water. "How are you?" Mycroft just grunted in response. "I have to go to class, but you can stay if you want to."  
"I have to get up too." he answered weakly.  
"Do you want to take a shower?"  
"Thanks but I'll go home, I only have class at ten. I'm sorry Gregory."  
"It's okay, as I said it's better that you came to me." Mycroft watched Greg getting ready.  
"What's the matter?"  
"Nothing, I'm just tired."  
"I can see that something is bothering you, so stop lying to me Gregory."  
"We can talk about it later."  
"Oh, no, no. Please tell me I did not!" Mycroft buried his face to his hands. "I ruined everything." he stood up and tried to run out, but Greg stopped him.  
"Mycroft, look at me, please." Mycroft kept his eyes on the ground.  
"I'm sorry Gregory, can we forget about that, please, please. Can we just pretend it never happened and let things go back as it was? Please." Greg lifted Mycroft's face.  
"We can't..."  
"Why not?" Mycroft looked at him pleadingly.  
"Because I love you too." Mycroft just blinked rapidly. "I do, that's the truth Mycroft. Sorry but I really have to go now. Why don't you come over in the afternoon, so we can talk?" Mycroft nodded. "Good. Are you well enough to go home?" he nodded again. "Good, have a nice day, see you in the afternoon." Mycroft stood frozen for a few seconds, before he collected himself enough to leave.

 

Mycroft was sitting in front of Greg's room when he came home in the afternoon.  
"Hi there! How are you?"  
"Been worse. Thanks again."  
"Don't mention it. Come on in. I was really worried that you'll disappear again. I felt bad for leaving you after that, but I really had to go."  
"I promised I won't disappear, not again."  
Mycroft sat down to the chair.  
"So..." Greg sat in front of him on the bed.  
"I want to start with saying that not counting a few hand jobs nothing else happened with him..."  
"I know, you told me."  
"I know I just wanted to say it again, I don’t want you to think of me like...”  
“Mycroft I wouldn’t think less of you, even if something else happened.”  
“I don’t have much experience in dating. I had a boyfriend just before I ran away. I had a crush on him for ages, but I was fat, awkward, but then I lost weight...I've changed. We got together; at first I was so happy." he trailed off. "Well; it didn't work out.” Mycroft looked up.  
“Still here.” Greg smiled at him.  
“I'm sacred that I'll ruin our friendship, I don't want that. You helped me so much, at first I didn't know what I was feeling, was it just gratitude or more. After our letters I was sure that I love you. I promised myself that I won't tell it to you, because I value our friendship more. I know I said I can read people, but with you I have problems; my feelings for you make it harder. I didn't know that you'd be interested...I mean if you..."  
"I like both men and women just you know. I didn't know if you are gay or not either and I was hesitant to ask it. I thought that after what you went through the last thing you'd want is a love confession from another man. When I saw you in the hospital you looked so gorgeous, at first I thought that I died and I was in heaven."  
"Yeah, sure." Mycroft blushed.   
"It's the truth; I set out a goal for myself. I won't die until I talk to you. So I collected my courage and approached you. I hoped you'll come back so we can talk more. You have no idea how happy I was, finally someone to talk to, who was clever, gorgeous and who didn't want to talk about being sick or dying."  
"I wasn't an improvement."  
"You were, believe me. I really liked that few days, then I got worse and you disappeared again. I couldn't believe my luck when I found you again. I felt really bad, because I was happy about you being in the hospital. When you told me what you went through, I felt even worse. Sorry for that."  
"It's okay, I'm glad we met again."  
Greg smiled and took his hands. "It'll work, we can make it work." Mycroft smiled back at him. "I need to cook, would you like to help?"  
"Sure."

They were cooking in silence; Greg examined Mycroft with grave attention.  
"I can feel you staring Gregory."  
"Sorry, you seemed off. I know that you are scared, but there is nothing to be afraid of; we don't have to rush anything."  
"I know, sorry...I was thinking about something else. I want to move out, but my mother wouldn't let me; not until I'm 18. That's almost a year!"  
"You can survive it, I know that. How would you do it?"  
"My grandmother left me some money; once I turn 18 I can access it. It's enough to buy a small place, I already have students and there always be someone needing help; so I'll have the money to get by."  
"Your uncle won't like it."  
"I know, but I hope he'll understand, that I have to be on my own, I have to learn it too. I can still work with him; I just need a little freedom."  
"I can understand that and I support your idea. We'll see."


	4. Chapter 4

"What do you think?" Greg asked as they walked out of the cinema.  
"It was all right."  
"You hated it."  
"Not hated, it was just so unrealistic."  
"Well I loved it." on their way back Greg wouldn't stop talking about his favourite parts of the movie. "Thank you for coming." he said when they got back to Greg's dorm.  
"Any time."  
"Are you sure?" Greg asked with disbelief.  
"I am; I would watch anything with you."  
“Thank you My.” Greg smiled at him and kissed him. After they parted Mycroft pulled him back to another long kiss, he ran his fingers through Greg's hair. Greg pushed him to the wall; Mycroft suddenly went very still, Greg felt that something wasn't right so he stepped back. "Mycroft?" he asked scanning him worriedly. Mycroft's eyes were filled with panic; he started to hyperventilate and looked around for a way out or a place to hide. Greg quickly stepped to the door and closed it; he couldn't risk Mycroft running away, not in a state like this. "Mycroft, love it's me Greg! I'm not going to hurt you, I'm sorry...you are safe; I'm not here to hurt you. It's just me Gregory, you are in my dorm room, you are safe...I'm not going to do anything to you, I'm not...My...I'm sorry Mycroft..." Greg was looking for the words to calm Mycroft, but he wasn't listening to him. Mycroft sunk to the floor, knees pulled up, arms covering his head, Greg saw that he was shaking; he decided to back away as far as he could and stayed silent. After ten minutes Mycroft stopped shaking, he lied down curled up to a tight ball. "Mycroft?" Greg asked softly, Mycroft took few deep breaths. "Gregory." he whispered.  
"Can I go there?"  
"Please."  
"Is it a yes My?"  
"Yes." Greg sat next to Mycroft and stroked his hair.  
"I'm sorry Mycroft, I'm so sorry. It won't happen again, I promise; I do. I told you that we don't have to rush anything and now I pushed you too far without asking. You trusted me and I betrayed it, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."  
"You didn't push me too far, I wanted it too. It was my fault, not yours. I'm sorry." he sat up.  
"We should have talked about this."  
"Can we postpone it; I'd like to go home now."  
"I walk you home."  
"No need." Mycroft stood up, Greg followed him.  
"There is, I won't let you go alone in a state like this."  
"I'm fine."  
"You are not My." he ignored Greg and tried to open the door.  
"Gregory!" he said warningly and turned around.  
"Not until you calm down."  
"Calm down! How could I calm down when you close me in? Open the door!"  
"Not yet love."  
"Open the bloody door!" he stepped close to Greg.  
"Mycroft..."  
"Give me the key! Now! Give it to me." Greg wrapped his arms around Mycroft who started to struggle in his arms. "Let go off me! Gregory! Let me go home...Now! Don't...please...please Gregory" Mycroft stopped struggling and hugged back. "Gregory......don't leave me...please...I’m sorry...please don’t leave me..." Greg felt Mycroft's tears damping his shirt.  
"It's okay love, it's okay. I'm here, I'm not going anywhere. You are safe...I promise...it's all right." Mycroft's legs gave up; Greg lowered themselves to the ground. "It's all right My, you are safe, he's not here, it's just me Gregory...you are safe. I'm sorry love...I'm so sorry..." they sat there until Mycroft stopped sobbing.   
"Thank you Gregory." he whispered; Greg snorted with disbelief.  
"Mycroft, I just gave you a panic attack!"  
"But you didn't leave me on my own. Thank you."  
"Why would I." he kissed the top of his head.  
"I...I think the problem was with the pace..."  
"What?" Greg tried to look Mycroft in the eye, but Mycroft's eyes were tightly shut and he wouldn't let go of Greg.  
"Last time when we made out, you pushed me to the bed, but I had no problem with it...I rather enjoyed it...Then I knew what were you doing, you lowered me slowly, Now it happened too fast, you pushed me to the wall too quickly it brought back memories...I made the wrong assumption. I'm sorry I couldn't help it. I wasn't with anyone after that...I didn't know how I'll react...I'm sorry." Mycroft started to cry again. Greg pulled the blanket off the bed to cover Mycroft with it and reached for the tissues.  
"It's okay Mycroft; we should have talked about it. I should have thought of it, I'm so sorry Love." They sat on the ground until Mycroft calmed down.  
"I have to go home now. Will you come with me?"  
"Of course. Is he home?"  
"I don't think so, not yet. Why?"  
"He'll kill me for taking you home in a state like this."  
"No he won't."  
"Okay, he'd get me killed."  
"More likely." Mycroft smiled faintly.

 

Greg pulled Mycroft up from the chair.  
"Come on, the game starts soon." Mycroft put the book down with a sigh. "All right."   
"Thank you Love." Greg kissed him. Mycroft kissed back and pushed Greg to the door. He dug his fingers to Greg's hair and pulled it. "My!" he panted when they parted. Mycroft kissed him again, gently biting Greg's lower lip when he released him. "Yes Gregory?" he kissed down his neck and opened his shirt.  
"My...the game...oh!" his breath hitched when Mycroft gently bit his nipple.  
"Yes?" Mycroft kept teasing his nipples while his hand reached Greg's trousers. "What...are...what...are you planning...?" Mycroft unbuckled his belt.   
"I want you." Mycroft came up and whispered to his ear.  
"Are you sure; we don't have to..."  
"I want you Gregory." Mycroft repeated and looked Greg in the eye.  
"Oh My; yes, yes!" he panted. "My parents can come home any minute." Greg managed to say before he was silenced by Mycroft wrapping his fingers around his already hardening penis.  
"No they won't. Your father will go out to the pub with his friends to watch the game and since he's not home your mother went out with her friends." Mycroft said between kisses.  
"I hate that you know my family so well." Greg cupped his face and kissed him deeply, he pushed his tong to Mycroft's mouth, softly moaning as their tongs got tangled.  
"I know." Mycroft answered and kept moving his hand on Greg's fully erect penis.  
"Oh, yes...My...oh fuck...yes...please stop...now" he moaned Mycroft released him, stepped back and started to unbutton his own shirt. Greg quickly got out of his already dishevelled clothes and slowly pushed Mycroft to the bed to take off the remainder of his clothes. "God you are gorgeous." he whispered and leaned in for another kiss to silence Mycroft's giggling. He gently bit along his jaw line and neck while he stroked Mycroft's penis.  
"Gregory..." he whispered his breath hitching at every stroke. Greg reached for the lube and condom in the drawer. He pushed from it to his fingers and started to circle around his rim teasingly. "Please...please" Mycroft whispered, Greg smiled at him and pushed one finger in, Mycroft hummed. Greg pushed in one more finger moving them slowly, soon he had three fingers in. Mycroft arched his back, Greg's cock twitched at the sounds he gave out. "Love...ready?"  
"Please Gregory." Greg put on the condom and slowly pushed in. Mycroft gave out a deep sigh, Greg remained still enjoying the feeling and then he started to move slowly, kissing Mycroft they didn't know who was giving out the sounds anymore. "Gregory." he said pleadingly when they parted for air.  
"Yes My?"   
"Please..."Greg knew what he wanted but he enjoyed teasing him.  
"What is it love?"  
"Gregory..." his eyes fluttered close, he couldn't say more when Greg pushed deeper inside him.   
"Do you want me to stop?" Mycroft grunted, wrapped his legs around him and turned themselves, so he was straddling Greg. He started to move up and down taking in Greg's full length. Greg grabbed Mycroft's hip, his nails digging to his flesh. "My.." he trusted his hip up to sped up the pace. They moved together, stealing kisses, moaning. Greg had his eyes closed, his finger digging deeper to Mycroft's flesh as he got closer to the end. "My...I'm...close." Greg moved one of his hands down on Mycroft's thigh but he was stopped. "Look at me Gregory." Greg opened his eyes with great difficulties. Mycroft was moving on him, he was flushed, biting down on his lower lip, his pupils blown wide; he had his hand on his own penis firmly stroking it. "Oh, fuck...love." the sight pushed Greg even closer to the end. "Oh...yes..." Greg kept his eyes on him, Mycroft sped up a bit. "That's it...oh...yes...please...yes!...My!" Greg cried out when he came. Few more strokes were enough for Mycroft to come too. Mycroft got off him, cleaned themselves and settled next to Greg who wrapped his arms around him.  
"Love." he kissed him.  
"How was it?"  
"What do you think? You heard what you did to me."  
"Yes. Was it good? I don't have much experience to compare to."  
"It was amazing My. And for you?"  
"Same, I enjoyed it immensely." he kissed back.  
"Good."  
"Doesn't it bother you?"  
"What do you mean?" Greg frowned.  
"That I took charge of the situation."  
"Mycroft!" Greg sat up.  
"Gregory I have to know what you like or don't like if we are to continue our activities."  
"Oh...I hope so." he lied back. "I had no problem with it." They laid in each other arms; Greg almost fell asleep when Mycroft spoke again.  
"We should get up."  
"Why?" Greg whined.  
"So we can tell your parents that we watched the game."  
"But I don't want to."  
"We can cuddle on the sofa until your mother gets home."  
"Should we tell them?"  
"If you want to."  
"Do your parents know?"  
"They know."  
"Mine don't. How did you tell them?"  
"Mummy kept introducing her friend’s daughters; I had enough so I sat them down. Although she hasn't stopped introducing them. I think your father knows."  
"What? No! I wouldn't be alive if he'd known." They got dressed and moved to the sofa. Greg laid his head on Mycroft’s chest so he could wrap his arms around him.  
"We missed the first half. You know that dad always wants to discuss it in details."  
"No worries, I'll talk us out." Mycroft reassured him.  
Greg heard the front door open; he sat back with a deep sigh and a sad look.  
"Hello boys."  
"Hi mom!" "Evening Mrs. Lestrade!"  
"Where is your father?"  
"Work."  
"He's in the pub. I'm sure of it. Dinner?"  
"We already had."  
"Good. Are you staying Mycroft? Greg can set up the sofa for you."  
"No, thank you."  
"I'll take him home after the game."  
"Drive safely my dear."  
"I will."  
"Good night."  
"Good night mom!"  
Mycroft patted the space next to him when she disappeared; but Greg stayed on the other side. “She might come back.” he whispered. Not long after she went to bed Greg's father get home too.  
"Is she home yet?"  
"Yes dad."  
"Ops. I better sleep down here then. Are you staying Mycroft?"  
"No Sir."  
"Are you sure?"  
"I have to go home, my uncle..."  
"Oh yes. How’s he?”  
“Fine.”  
“How do you like the game?"  
"It's rather boring; they played better the last time." Mycroft answered, Greg anxiously fiddled with the pillow.  
"True; but there was a few interesting moments in the first half."  
"Hmm, I..."  
"We haven't watched it." Greg blurted; Mycroft looked at him questioningly.  
"It's okay; I missed the first 20 minutes too."  
"We are dating." Greg couldn't look at him.  
"I know that."  
"You do?" Greg’s head shot up.  
"I'm a detective son."  
"And mom?"  
"I haven't told her."  
"Doesn't it bother you?"  
"Why would it? You are happy, I can see it and that's enough for me. Will you take Mycroft home, I had a few beers?" Greg nodded.

They were sitting in the car. "I can call for a car."  
"Why would you?"  
"You look troubled; I don't want you to get harmed."  
"I'm fine, don't worry. It's just...dad, I though...he'll be...I don't know. Let's get you home before your uncle thinks that I kidnapped you." he smiled.  
“I told you he knew.”  
“Thank you Mr. All seeing. I don’t want to tell it to mother; not yet.”  
“Okay.”  
“Or shell I?”  
“Gregory, you saw that your father has no problem with it; I think she’ll feel the same way.”  
“How did your parents react?”  
“Father suspected it; Sherlock knew it of course. Mother was a bit confused; her biggest problem is that I won’t give her grandchildren. But she accepted it.”  
“Good for you.”  
“You just have to try my dear. You never know.”  
“Yeah.” Greg sighed.  
“I would like to introduce you to them, properly.”  
“When?”  
“I think I’ll have a free weekend next month. After all we’ve been together for five month now.”  
“Fine with me; just tell me the date.”  
“Of course.” they drove in silence. “Thank you for the lift.” he kissed Greg and got out of the car.

 

Mycroft finally managed to have a free weekend; so they got on the train and headed home. Greg felt that Mycroft grew more and more anxious as they got closer to their destination.  
“It’ll be all right love.”  
“Shhhh; we are on a train!” he snapped.  
“No one is around, don’t worry.” Mycroft looked around.  
“Oh, sorry.”  
“Anyone hurt you My?” Greg asked worriedly.  
“No...not really.”  
“Why didn’t you tell it to me? I would have a few words with them.”  
“That’s exactly why. I don’t want you to get harmed Gregory.” he smiled. “It was really nothing; don’t worry.”  
“Okay; but if something happens, please tell it to me. If not me than father can help.”  
“Thank you.” Mycroft returned to staring out of the window, muttering absentmindedly.  
“Love!”  
“What?”  
“Do you think they won’t like me?”  
“I know they’ll like you; not that they have any other option.”  
“Then what’s wrong? I know how to behave in company.”  
“I know that. It’s just I never introduced anyone to them. Peter and I were only together for two month and I never thought about introducing him. I just don’t know what to expect; I don’t like not knowing, not being able to prepare for a situation.”  
“It’ll be fine My. You remember how the meeting went with my parents.”  
“We haven’t told them properly and our first meeting was when I turned up on your doorstep and I was out for most of the time so...”  
“Okay, I won’t try to calm you then; carry on with your panicking.” Mycroft leaned to him and wrapped his arms around Greg’s waist.  
“I haven’t told them why you are coming.”  
“What?” he tried to look Mycroft in the eye but he was hiding his face. “So what did you tell them?”  
“That a friend of mine will come with me...”  
“Well now you managed to stick the panic on me too. I though they already knew.”  
“It doesn’t make any difference.”  
“It does. They would have time to get through the shock and have a strategy to act decent even if they don’t approve of me.”  
“Sherlock approved of you after you brought me home.” Greg smiled at Mycroft and placed a kiss to the top of his head.  
“I see; so you value his opinion the most.”  
“What about your sister? Does she know?”  
“Yes; she knows everything.”  
“And I still haven’t met her.”  
“She’s living in the states; have you forgotten?”  
“You never told me that. I always assumed she’s just living somewhere far.”  
“Well it’s far all right.” Greg chuckled. “I think we are here.” Mycroft looked up.  
“Oh, we are.” they got off the train. “It’s not far from here, unfortunately.” he whispered the end.  
“I heard that! Come on lead the way!” they walked in silence, Greg saw that Mycroft was tense and it got even worse as they got closer to the house. Sherlock was in the garden watching the bees when they arrived.  
“Sherlock!”  
“Oh look who turned up!”  
“I’m sorry brother mine, I was busy. I want you to meet Gregory.”  
“I’m busy now.” he turned his back to them.  
“Okay...” Mycroft said disappointedly. “He’s angry with me because I left for uni.” he whispered to Greg. “If I call he’s not around; if I write he suddenly forgets how to write...I would like to come home more often, but I don’t have time for that.” the front door opened.  
“Mummy!” he hugged her. “Let me introduce you Gregory Lestrade, my...my boyfriend.” Mrs. Holmes hand stopped in the air as she extended it.  
“Oh!” she quickly collected herself and shook Greg’s hand. “Nice to meet you. Please come in.” she ushered them in. “Mike’s here!” she yelled and Mr. Holmes came out of his office.  
“Son.” he hugged Mycroft.  
“Dad, he is Gregory Lestrade my boyfriend.”  
“Nice to meet you.”  
“You too Sir.”  
“Come on in; we’re just about to have tea.” Mycroft took the bags and disappeared. Greg was seated in the kitchen, Mycroft’s mother was busy with plates and trying to get Sherlock come in; his father sat opposite Greg.  
“So Gregory.”  
“Greg will do; only Mycroft and my grandma call me Gregory.”  
“Greg then, so tell us something about you.”  
“I’m studying like Mycroft; first year. Planning to be a detective like my father.”  
“How did you two met?”  
“We met when Mycroft was in the hospital. I had cancer...”  
“Oh.”  
“It’s okay I’m fine now. So we met there, we talked and after we brought him home we started to exchange letters. Then he moved up so we kept meeting and...well here we are. We’ve been together for six month now.”  
“Six month!” Mycroft’s mother echoed and walked out of the kitchen.  
“Mycroft!” they heard her yell.  
“We should have tea; it’ll take a while.” he put the mugs to the table.

“Mummy, please.”  
“Six month Mycroft; you kept it from me for six month. You promised you won’t lie to me.”  
“You never asked, so technically...”  
“I’m talking to my son not the future politician; stop with it!”  
“Sorry. You knew that I’m gay.”  
“Yes.”  
“So I don’t understand why you are so surprised.”  
“I’m just a bit disappointed; that you didn’t tell it to me sooner. I though you always tell me everything...I though...”  
“I’m sorry mummy. I just...he is my first...he is the first who I can actually call my boyfriend. I just needed time to figure things out. And it took me this long to collect my courage to bring him home.” his mother hugged him. “I’m sorry mummy.”  
“It’s okay. I’m glad you introduced him. He seems like a nice guy, he cares about you deeply; I can tell. And you love him, I can see that too." she smiled. "Now let’s get back to him; and start again. I’m sorry; I was just a bit surprised. You should have told us earlier.” they went back to the kitchen and spent tea with pleasant conversation.

After tea Mycroft took Greg out for a walk.  
“So you always lived here?”  
“No; we moved here when I was 11.”  
“Work?”  
“The mansion burned down.”  
“Mansion? Are you serious?”  
“It was the ancient family home.”  
“Oh! Big family then?”  
“Yes, too big if you ask me. Too big and too old.”  
“We are being followed.”  
“I know; Sherlock. Just ignore him.”  
“Are you sure? Don’t you want to talk with him?”  
“I’d love to; but he won’t come closer. He's been doing this for ages. If I stop he disappears...” they walked deep in discussion until Mycroft stopped.  
“What is it My?”  
“It’s Friday evening!” he whispered and suddenly turned very white.  
“Yes it is. Why?”  
“They are here!”  
“Who?”  
“My schoolmates; they are always out in the park on Friday.” Mycroft stepped behind Greg.  
“Don’t hide My; it’ll only make it worse.”  
“We should go home; I’ll show the rest to you tomorrow.”  
“Okay.” they turned, Mycroft grabbed Greg’s arm. “I hope you’re not planning to break my arm.”  
“Sorry.” Mycroft muttered but didn’t weaken his hold.  
“My, you are not here anymore, they can’t hurt you; not anymore.”  
“They can...”  
“No love.” a yell startled Mycroft.  
“No.” he whimpered and hurried his steps. “They always called me that; Fatcroft, even after I lost the weight...am I still fat?”  
“Mycroft, please; you are definitely not fat you are almost unhealthily thin. Remember what I said last night?”  
“Not really.” the yells got closer and closer.  
“I told you that you look gorgeous; like always; please don’t listen to them.”  
“They are following us. Sherlock!” Greg stopped.  
“Okay My...”  
“No; we have to go home now!”  
“Sherlock come here!” he yelled. “Now!” Sherlock reluctantly came out of the bushes. “Go home, now.”  
“What are you going to do?”  
“Same as you; now run!” Sherlock looked behind them and started to run.  
“Can we run too?” Mycroft pulled Greg’s arm.  
“No love, we can’t. I sprained my ankle on practice; remember.”  
“It was weeks ago.”  
“Still can’t run. Now give me your hand.” Mycroft crossed his arms in front of his chest and hurried his steps; Greg followed him with a concerned look. Suddenly Mycroft was grabbed by the collar.  
“Fatcroft! Where are you going? Why wouldn’t you greet your old friends?”  
“I didn’t know we were friends.”  
“You thought just because you left we'll forget about you.”  
“Let go of him!”  
“Oh look; Fatcroft found a guardian for himself.”  
“I don’t know who you are talking about; looking at us I’d say you are the fattest. Greg Lestrade; nice to meet you assholes; I already heard a lot about you. Let go off him NOW!”  
“Or what? There’re four of us against one...and a half.”  
“Am I supposed to be scared?” Greg asked.  
“He is.” one of them pointed at Mycroft.  
“No wonder...” Greg muttered and stepped closer.  
“Gregory; please don’t.” Mycroft grabbed his arm.  
“But...”  
“Please.” Mycroft looked at him pleadingly.  
“Fine; love.”  
“Ooooooooo Love. Aren’t they cute?” Greg turned suddenly; but before he could do anything Mycroft stepped between them. “Afraid we hurt your lover Fatcroft?”  
“No; I’m just afraid your mothers won’t be able to identify you afterwards. Not that your mother is around Carl. She ran off with the milkman; and you still hiding it from the others. Don’t laugh Fred; yours dead and I know that your grandparents had enough of you so you’ll be put out of the house as soon as you finished high school. What else; James still in second year. And you Peter what are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be in jail?”  
“I...I don’t know what are you talking about.” he turned pale suddenly.  
“No?” Mycroft tilted his head. “How did your father managed to get you out if it? Money? Blackmail?”  
“Shut up!” he launched forward; but Mycroft was quicker; few seconds later Peter was on the ground his arm twisted behind his back; whimpering.  
“No Peter; I won’t. I won’t shut up; not like him. There’s nothing you can do to me; not anymore. Your father is a nobody even compared to me! I could tell you things about him that would crush your pretty little world. You and he would both end up in prison; do you know what they do to your kind in prison? Do you want to know?”  
“What is he talking about? Peter?” Fred asked with confusion.  
“Oh; your loyal followers don’t know. He raped Mitchell Smith; and he got away with it. He was just 14.” Mycroft stood up looking down at him with disgust. “Come on Gregory; I had enough walk for today.” he said coldly; Greg followed Mycroft in silence.  
“I’m sorry Gregory. I didn’t mean to scare you.” Mycroft spoke when they got far enough.  
“I...”  
“I saw it Gregory; don’t deny it.” he cut him off.  
“All right; you were a bit scary. Your eyes and the way you talked; and then how you took him down...”  
“My uncle made me start the training so I can protect myself.” Greg took Mycroft’s hand.  
“Impressive.” Mycroft didn't answer. "What you said about him...”  
“The truth I’m afraid. I don’t know how he managed to get away with it. He should be in jail, he’s not a minor.”  
“Is he the same Peter you dated?”  
“I’m afraid so...I was in love with him back then; I’m sorry.”  
“You couldn’t help it; I understand.”  
“I broke up with him when I realised he only wanted someone to have sex with.”  
“My; did he...”  
“No; I was so in love with him I would do anything.”  
“Oh; I’m glad...I mean that I’m glad he didn’t hurt you like that...you know what I mean; don’t you?” Greg wrapped one of his arms around his waist.  
“Yes, Gregory.” Mycroft stopped hugged back tightly, burying his face to his shirt.  
“It’s okay My; you are fine; you are safe.” he stroked his back reassuringly. “I’m here and I love you. I won’t let anything happen to you...promise.” Mycroft looked up.  
“You can’t look after me all the time.”  
“I know; but I’ll do my best.”  
“I love you Gregory.”  
“I love you too Mycroft.”  
“Let’s go home, mummy must be wondering where are we.”

 

As soon as they were back Mycroft walked up to his room and closed the door.  
“What happened?” Mycroft’s mother asked Greg.  
“We met his former schoolmates.”  
“Oh.”  
“Sherlock got home all right?”  
“Yes.”  
“Good. I try talking to him.” Greg went up to Mycroft’s room. He knocked on the door, but Mycroft didn’t open it.  
“I hate them.” he yelled.  
“I know. Can I come in?”  
“Can you leave me alone for a little bit? Please; I just need a little time alone.”  
“Are you all right?”  
“No; please Gregory. I’ll be down soon.”  
“How can I leave you when you say that you’re not fine.” the door suddenly opened making Greg jump back.  
“Which part you do not understand? Leave me alone!” he shut the door.  
Greg went downstairs with a puzzled look.  
“Trouble in paradise.” Sherlock greeted him at the bottom of the stairs.  
“He just needs a little time alone.”  
“And you don’t understand why.”  
“Not entirely.”  
“He was always like this...he just needs a little time alone. There was time when we were playing and he suddenly left me; retreated to his room for a few hours; I couldn’t even sit with him during that time. He always came back; he’ll come down, don’t worry. Will you play with me?”  
“Sure.” Mycroft emerged after dinner. They were playing cards in the kitchen when he walked in.  
“Mycroft; finally. Come on dear I put your dinner aside.”  
“Thank you mummy. I’m sorry Gregory.”  
“It’s okay My; truly.”  
“Don’t stop on my account.” he said as Greg got up. “I’ll be fine.” Mycroft ate in silence watching them play; then he disappeared again. Greg looked up. “Where is he?”  
“Probably in his room again. You’re turn.” Sherlock answered.  
“I better check on him.”  
“No need; he’ll be fine.”  
“I’ll be right back.” Greg stood up and walked back to Mycroft’s room.  
“My?” he knocked before he tried the door; it was closed. “My; please open the door. Please.” there was still no answer.  
“I can open it for you.” Sherlock stepped to him and produced a lock pick set from his pocket.  
“Where is it from?” Greg watched Sherlock work.  
“Mycroft gave it to me, after I kept destroying his locks with barbaric methods; as he called it. Done!” he stepped back.   
“Mycroft, love are you all right?” Greg stepped to the shaking Mycroft.  
“Why can’t I be normal?” he asked weakly.  
“Why do you say that? There’s nothing wrong with you love.”  
“There is!” he stood up and started to pace. “I shouldn’t be so distant...”  
“Mycroft you are everything but distant.” Mycroft acted like he didn’t hear him.  
“I was sitting in the kitchen watching you play; why can’t I be like you. You enjoyed it so much; but I only saw the possibilities. I knew what the next card will be; I knew who will win...” he trailed off. “I...I enjoyed it; I enjoyed hurting them...what kind of person does that!...I don’t know why...I don’t know...I’m a monster...”  
“No Mycroft you are not!” Greg wrapped his arms around him. “You clearly didn’t enjoy it; otherwise you wouldn’t be in a state like this. You did nothing wrong My, you just talked to them. He attacked you; you had no other choice. He would deserve worse than being pushed to the ground...There’s nothing wrong with you, believe me!”  
“I’m no better than them.”  
“You are, a thousand times better than those morons love. Please believe me; not them...please. I love you.”  
“Even after this?”  
“Of course.” Greg stepped back so he could look Mycroft in the eyes.  
“I’m going to be sick.” Mycroft ran to the bathroom. Greg brought water and sat next to him on the floor. Mycroft finally stopped gagging; he was still hunched over the toilet, his head resting on his arms. “I shouldn’t have done that...I shouldn’t...it was unnecessary. I’m sorry...I’m disgusted by myself…It felt so good telling them off...Why?...but not anymore...”  
“It felt good because you weren’t the victim anymore. That you feel like this now shows that you are definitely not a monster, Mycroft. You did nothing to them that you should be ashamed of.” Mycroft took the water from Greg.  
“Thanks.”  
“You should take a shower.” Mycroft nodded. When he came out of the bathroom Greg was waiting for him. “I just wanted to say good night.”  
“Would you stay with me, please?”  
“Okay. Your parents won’t mind it?”  
“I don’t think so. I just want to sleep, if you don't mind; I always sleep better with you...”  
“That's the only thing that I was planning too. Now to bed with you; you need rest, a lot of it.” Mycroft settled in Greg’s arm tightly holding onto him.  
"You're still trembling My. Are you all right?" Greg placed his hand on his forehead.  
"No." Mycroft whispered.  
"You are safe love. You are safe; it'll be all right. I promise. You'll be fine. I'm here; I'm not going anywhere." he stroked his hair until Mycroft fell asleep.   
Greg woke up to the door opening in the middle of the night.  
“Sherlock?” he whispered.  
“How’s he?”  
“He’ll be fine...don't worry.”  
“What happened?”  
“He made some deductions about those idiots and now he thinks that he’s no better than them.”  
“Why?”  
“Because you should be in bed Sherlock.” Mycroft turned to him. “Come here.” Sherlock settled between them, Mycroft wrapped his arms around him. “Remember what I told you whenever I came home beaten up. And your solution was to hire a pirate to beat them up.” he smiled.  
“I still think that would be a good idea; but you have Greg now.”  
“Yes.” Mycroft looked at Greg who smiled back at him. “I told you that...”  
“Please not again! I heard your lecture countless of times.”  
“But...”  
“Myyyyyyyyyyyyyy; please.”  
“All right brother mine. Then go to sleep.”  
“Tell me a story.”  
“Sherlock.”  
“Pleeease.”  
“Which one you'd like?”  
“Figure it out.” Mycroft chuckled and started the story. Greg watched them with a smile; Sherlock quickly fell asleep in Mycroft’s arms. When he thought that they both fell asleep Greg tried to get out of the bed.  
“Please don’t go Gregory.” Mycroft whispered.  
“Okay.” he lied back. “Good night love.”  
“Good night.”

Mycroft opened his eyes in the morning but Greg wasn’t in bed. Carefully not to disturb Sherlock he sat up to see him sleeping on the ground. He lied next to him.   
“I’m sorry, I forgot. I got used to him moving around and kicking during the night, he can’t wake me with it.” Greg laid his head on Mycroft's chest and wrapped one leg around him. “You could have gone down to your room. You could catch a cold.” Mycroft wrapped his arms around him.  
“I didn’t want to leave you; not now.”  
“Thank you.” Mycroft kissed him.  
“I think I’ll have a few blue spots. Is he doing some kind of martial arts?”  
“Not yet. He’s too...restless for that. I’m sorry.”  
“Don’t mention it. Do we have to get up?”  
“No. We have a little time before he wakes.”  
Not long after Mycroft fell asleep again he was woken by his mother.  
“Five more minutes.” he whined and buried his face to Greg's hair.  
“You have a phone call my dear.”  
“Who is it?”  
“What do you think?” Mycroft got up carefully not to wake Greg.  
“This is my weekend off.” he picked up the receiver.  
“What have you done?”  
“Nothing.” Mycroft swallowed hard.  
“Mycroft!”  
“I’m sorry, I got carried away.”  
“You can’t do that.”  
“I know. How do you know about it?”  
“I just do. We’ll talk about it when you get back.”  
“Yes.” he whispered.   
Greg found him sitting next to the phone, looking miserably.  
“Good morning Mycroft.”  
“Good? I don’t think so.”  
“What happened?” Greg pulled him up.  
“My uncle called.”  
“Oh; do you have to go back?”  
“No. He knows about yesterday.”  
“Oh...”  
"Oh indeed. What will I get for this!?” he buried his face to Greg's shoulder.

The weekend passed without further complications. Sherlock finally gave up with avoiding Mycroft; after that they were inseparable. Not that anyone would try to separate them.


	5. Chapter 5

Moving out was easier than they thought. Both Mycroft's parents and his uncle agreed that he has to learn how to live on his own. Few months after Mycroft moved out he disappeared again, Greg hasn't seen him in a week. They were both busy with school, but they always found time for each other. Greg tried to call and went to his place daily, but Mycroft wasn't home or he didn't open the door. One day Greg found him in the library, Mycroft was paler than usual, there were dark circles under his eyes; he stood up and walked out when he saw Greg. He followed Mycroft who was sitting on a bench not far from the building; he was already out of breath.  
"Mycroft, love what's going on?" Greg asked worriedly.  
"Nothing Gregory. I'm sorry I was just busy with school and work."  
"Bullshit. You look..."  
"I'm fine." Mycroft cut him off.  
"No, you are not. Please talk to me. What's wrong?"  
"The bubble is gone." he whispered.  
"And you thought that it'll get better by hiding from me." Mycroft didn't look at him. "I'm an idiot."  
"No you are not." Greg hugged him. "You are just scared, but it's okay. Suddenly you found yourself on your own again, or that's what you think; but you are not alone, I'm here. You have to take care of everything, shopping, cleaning, laundry, paying the bills, making decisions, no one there to correct them. You'll make mistakes; yes Mycroft you will, but it's okay we all do. You learn from them, you know that. You already made one by closing me off."  
"I'm sorry; I don't know why I did that. This is what I wanted, and I got it; but I..." he fell silent.  
"Just don't do this again. I'm here for you, I can help."  
"Thank you."  
"You should go home, you're sick."  
"No, it's not that, I just didn't have time to sleep."  
"And that's why you're burning up and can't support your own rapidly decreasing weight. Why don't you eat properly? You can cook, very well actually."  
"I didn't have time for that either." Mycroft whispered.  
"It's not an excuse. You have to look after yourself, or let me do it. Come on time to go home." Greg pulled him up from the bench; Mycroft was leaning onto him with his full weight. "Jesus love. Don't you dare doing this again!" It took Greg a great effort but Mycroft was back in his flat and in bed.  
"Will you stay? Please!!" he asked sleepily.  
"Of course."   
"Gregory..."  
"Hmmm?"  
"I love you."  
"I love you too. Now sleep!"  
"Will you wake me in an hour? I have to go to work."  
"No, Mycroft."  
"I have to." he tried to get up.  
"How much do you work? My? Look at me and tell me the truth..." Mycroft didn't look at him; Greg easily pushed him back down. "You lied to me My. Why? Why do you think you have to lie to me? Mycroft? You stay here!"  
"But I have to." Mycroft whimpered.  
"Shut up and sleep." Greg sat next to him stroking his hair until he finally fell asleep.  
The phone rang, but Mycroft didn't wake to it.  
"Hello?" Greg answered it.  
"Why aren't you here?"  
"Because he's overworked."  
"Give the phone to him!"  
"I won't he's finally sleeping."  
"Then wake him up!" Greg slammed the receiver down.  
After a while uncle Rudy walked in. "Mycroft!" he called his name loudly, but Mycroft didn't even stir.  
"Told you so."  
"It's your fault."  
"My fault? It's not me who works him to exhaustion."  
"If it's not for you he'd stay home with me. He wouldn't waste his time running after you and having students. He comes to work then runs off because he has students, then he comes back to finish what he left..."  
"It's enough!" came a weak voice from behind them.  
"Sorry we woke you My." Greg turned to him.  
"I asked you to wake me Gregory." he said with a piercing look.  
"My, you..."  
"Let's go." he said to his uncle. Greg decided to stay and wait for Mycroft to return. He got back late at night, Mycroft was too tired to get to his room so he collapsed to the sofa.  
"Love you can't go on like this." Mycroft sat up immediately, he was too tired to realise that Greg was still there. "You'll end up in the hospital or worse!" Mycroft ignored him and lied back, Greg stepped to him. "Why are you doing this to yourself? My, please listen to me. You have to eat and sleep it doesn't worth it, you know that...or you should. Why didn’t you tell it to me? I could have helped, I can make sure that you eat at least...I don't want to lose you, not like this!" there was no answer. "Mycroft? My? Open your eyes, please. Mycroft!" Greg shook him, but there wasn't any reaction.  
"For god's sake!"

 

Mycroft woke up in the hospital; Greg was sleeping next to him on a chair. Mycroft reached out to him.  
"Mycroft!" Greg jerked awake.  
"There was no need for this."  
"There was, I couldn't wake you."  
"I want to go home, now!"  
"Not yet love, not yet."  
"I have to." Mycroft tried to get up, but he was too weak to do so.  
"You are staying, end of discussion. My you are sick, exhausted and malnourished; it doesn't worth it."  
"Doesn't worth it?" he echoed him. "Just this week we avoided an assassination and a terrorist attack; do you know how many people we saved with it? And there is more!" Greg just sat there looking at him with sad eyes. Mycroft turned his back to him. "You know nothing Gregory. Leave me alone."  
"That's not going to happen love." he whispered. "I called your mother." he continued louder.  
"You did what?" he turned back.  
"Sorry, but this can't go on further."  
"I can take care of myself, I can. There is no need for this! I won't move back, they can't make me."   
"I know, I know, but she needs to talk with your uncle, if you don’t have the courage to do so."  
"You have no idea what are you talking about Gregory. I don't want that, I can take care of it. She'll just ruin everything. Why can't you understand? Leave me alone! Why can't all of you just leave me be! I know what I'm doing!" After few minutes Greg stood up and left. Mycroft pulled the blanket over his head, cursing himself for hurting Gregory.

Mycroft woke to his mother arguing with her brother in the corridor.  
"You can't do this to him! He's just a child."  
"He's not, not anymore."  
"Child or not, you can't do this to him. He needs to rest too, he needs to live his life, have friends. You can't force him to sit in the office all day long."  
"I didn't force him. He was the one who wanted to work."  
"He knows nothing! He doesn't know what..."  
"He knew, he's not stupid. He just needs to learn what is important in life; having friends, socialising, happiness is not, it's just a distraction; he needs to concentrate on work. That's..."  
"You're the one saying this. Have you forgotten about when you were on university? You were always out with your friends, barely studying, I had to collect you from...well various places, nurse you back and hide it from mother. Cover for you from your simultaneous girlfriends. Granted once you left to work you've changed, you became this cold, distant, heartless, calculating monster! If I knew what you were planning, I wouldn't let you get close to him." Mycroft heard that a nurse ushered them out. He stirred under the blanket when someone placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry Gregory." Mycroft muttered.  
"I know love. Please don't do this again." Mycroft turned to face him.  
"I'll try. I'm sorry for what I said, I didn't mean it. Thank you for your help."  
"That's why I'm here."

 

 

After graduation they moved in together. Mycroft's uncle was strongly against it.  
"Why? I just can't understand why you need this!  
"I love him!"  
"I love him, I love him.” he echoed him. “That's not a valid reason."  
"I want to spend my life with him. I know that you can't understand it."  
"I can't understand why you had to get so attached to him. You can have numerous bed mates without the attachment. He's a weakness, which you are not allowed to have. I told you once, I tell you again; caring is not an advantage. And if you expect me to stand by and let you throw your life away, because of him; then you are really stupid. I won't allow it."  
"You can't forbid me."  
"I can and I will. I can make sure your precious friend loses his job or more."  
"You'll do nothing of that kind."  
"Try stopping me." Mycroft just stared at him hatefully. "You are just a nobody Mycroft, a nobody."  
"I know, but that's why I know everything."  
"What?"  
"I'm just a nobody so they talk around me assuming I don't listen or I won't tell...big mistake. I know things you could never imagine."  
"Useless."  
"If you say so; also don't forget we lived together."  
"And?" Mycroft just smiled coldly at him.  
"Blackmail, how original."  
"I learned from the best." Mycroft answered with a small nod.   
"It won't end well, mark my word nephew mine."  
"How would you know?" his uncle sighed with defeat.   
"You can always come to me Mycroft, I'll always be there for you, don't forget that. Just call and I'll help anytime with anything."  
"Thank you. Why are you saying goodbye? We'll still meet in work."  
"Not anymore, from today 5 o'clock I'm retired, it's all yours."  
"What?"  
"I taught you everything I could; you have to get by on your own from now on. Congratulation Mr. Holmes." 

Mycroft got home; he closed the door and sunk to the floor. When Greg came home he couldn't open the door properly. He pushed himself through the opening to found Mycroft still sitting behind it.  
"Mycroft?" he knelt down worriedly, but he just stared blankly. "Mycroft? Are you all right?" there was no answer. Greg took his shoes and coat off, pulled Mycroft up who followed without a word. Greg pushed him to the sofa and wrapped him in a blanket.  
Greg was watching a movie when Mycroft suddenly sat up next to him, he looked around with confusion.  
"Hi there."  
"Gregory!"  
"What happened? Are you all right?"  
"I just needed to think."  
"Next time put up a sign, so I know."  
"I'm sorry. My uncle retired, from Monday I'm on my own."  
"Oh."  
"I needed to think."  
"I understand. When was the last time you ate?"  
"I think...breakfast."  
"Come on, you have to eat." Greg pulled him up. Mycroft was fed and in bed, so Greg returned to the movie. Soon Mycroft came out of the bedroom covered in a thick blanket.  
"Can't sleep?"  
"I'm cold." Mycroft settled next to Greg who wrapped his arms around him.  
"Better?" Mycroft hummed. Greg stroked his hair; he thought that Mycroft fell asleep so he stopped. Mycroft pushed his head under Greg's hand.  
"What is it love?"  
"More!" he yawned.  
"What are you? A cat?"  
"Not a cat, I'm a fox."  
"A fox?"  
"I'm clever and sly and cute." Greg snorted and resumed stroking his hair. "You found me and waited patiently until I got closer and closer, you managed to tame me." he continued.  
"So I'm the little prince."  
"If you'd like."  
"So my beautiful fox will you go to bed now?"  
"Are you coming?"  
"I take a shower and I'll be right there." Greg found Mycroft curled up in the middle of the bed wrapped in blankets. He smiled as he got in bed trying not to disturb him but he had to push Mycroft aside to have enough space, he grunted in response.  
"If you bite me, you're sleeping on the floor!"


	6. Chapter 6

Mycroft was away for a few days, he came home to found Greg sleeping at the table surrounded by empty bottles of various kinds of alcohols and sleeping pills.  
"Gregory, Gregory wake up darling." he shook him. Greg jerked awake.  
"NO!"  
Mycroft stepped back. "Gregory it's just me, Mycroft."  
"You're back!"  
"Yes my dear, I'm home. What happened?"  
"I didn't have a choice, I had to; he was holding her hostage..." Mycroft had a suspicion "Who?" he asked softly.  
"She's just five."  
"You saved her."  
"I know that's what the psycho lady said. She said to remember her face, remember the moment she was reunited with her mother, but I can't forget his face..."  
"I know it's not easy."  
"You know nothing!" Greg pushed Mycroft aside, stormed to the bedroom and closed the door.  
Mycroft walked to the door. "Gregory, please open the door, please." he was begging and knocking on the door continuously. "Please..."  
"Leave me alone. I don't need this, not again. You are just like them saying you know, you understand, but you have no idea what I really feel. It's just like when I was sick! You didn't do this back then, so please don't do it now." Greg threw something at the door, Mycroft sunk to the floor.  
"Every time you close your eyes, you see him, you see the blood, you see the confusion, pain in his eyes, you see the body dropping to the ground. He haunts you dreams, you wake up soaking in sweat, fearing that he's in the room or having dreams where you didn't save her..." Mycroft heard the lock open, but he remained seated. "You knew that this comes with the job, but you're afraid what the others will think of you. What you'll think of yourself, you can't look into the mirror without seeing the blood on your face, or in your hands; trying vigorously to wash it off, but it won't come off. You are afraid how I'll react; I love you Gregory no matter what, that's the only thing you have to remember. It'll get better, I promise, with time. It'll fade, less nightmares..." Greg opened the door and sat next to him his head resting on Mycroft's shoulder.  
"Him?" Mycroft nodded.  
"It'll get better Gregory, I promise. You are not alone, I'm here to help. Whatever you need, just ask." They sat in silence for quite a while.  
"Gregory?"  
"Hmmm?"  
"Can I suggest something?"  
"What?" he sat back.  
"You take a shower; I cook something for you, then you go to bed."  
"Okay."  
"Thank you my dear."  
By the time Greg got out of the bathroom, Mycroft cleaned up the bottles and started to cook.  
"It'll be ready soon." Mycroft put the plates out for them. Greg just kept pushing the food around on the plate.  
"Gregory, please, for me, just a little...please." Greg started to eat with a deep sigh.  
"Happy now?" the fork clattered on the plate when he finished.  
"Thank you Gregory." he marched to the bedroom and slammed the door behind him. Mycroft did the dishes and settled on the sofa. He opened his eye in the middle of the night; at first he didn’t know what woke him. Then he realised that Greg was sitting on the floor watching him.  
"Gregory?" he sat up.  
"Why are you sleeping here?"  
"Because your behaviour suggested that you wanted to be left alone."  
"No it didn't...you supposed to see it."  
"I'm sorry." Mycroft remained silent and kept his eyes on Greg.  
"I don't know what I want..." Greg admitted and sat next to Mycroft. He wanted to pull him to his arms, but he waited till Greg leaned to him. Mycroft wrapped the blanked around him and held him tightly. Greg fell asleep, but soon he was woken by a nightmare.  
"Shhhh, shhh; my dear, I'm here. It's all right. Shhhh." Greg drifted back to sleep. Mycroft was up all night long, watching over him.  
Greg woke up in the morning, looking around with confusion. "My?"  
"I'm here, don't worry." Greg sat up.  
"You look horrid."  
"It was a trying few days."  
"Do you have to go in today?"  
"No."  
"Good." Greg settled back and soon he was sleeping again. Mycroft got up and when he was convinced that Greg was sound asleep he cleaned the flat and cooked, Greg slept through everything.  
Greg finally woke up. "Hmmm, chicken. I'm hungry." he sat up. "Mycroft?" he called for him, but there was no answer. He looked around and saw that Mycroft was sitting at the table his head resting on his arms. Greg stepped to him and gently shook him. "My...love."  
"The chicken!" he sat up with a cry.  
"Don't worry you turned it off."  
"Oh, good." he yawned.  
"When was the last time you slept, I mean properly?"  
"Last weekend, I guess." he rubbed his eyes.  
"Come, you should go to bed."  
"But you..."  
"I'll be fine, don't worry."  
"My head aches."  
"No wonder. Come on love, you'll feel better after you slept."  
“No, no. It’s me who has to look after you now. It’s always you who looks after me...”  
“It’s not like washing dishes My; we don’t take turns.” he pulled him up.  
“Are you sure you’ll be all right? You can wake me anytime. I’m here if you want to talk or you need someone to listen or anything else.” he said as he settled under the covers.  
“Thank you love. I’ll do that; but now you have to sleep.” he placed a kiss to his temple and left Mycroft. He fell asleep as soon as the door closed behind him.

 

Mycroft woke to his alarm in the morning; he turned to found Greg laying next to him, staring at him.  
"Morning Gregory."  
"Morning My. Do you have to go in today?"  
"No; I asked for the week off. I can work from home if it's necessary."  
"Okay."  
"But I can go in if that's what you want."  
"Stay, please."  
"How long can you stay home?"  
"It depends on the psychologist."  
"When do you go to her?"  
"I don't know; I missed our last meeting. I don't like her; she doesn't understand a thing!"  
"You know that by missing a session you just make it worse. She won't let you go back; you'll be chained to a desk for the remainder of your life."  
"I'm not going back to her!" Greg turned his back to Mycroft.  
"What about someone else?" he asked hesitantly.  
"There's no one else; she's the appointed one. I have to go to her."  
"I can arrange it. Dr. Holmes...she is different."  
"Relative?"  
"No."  
"How do you know that she's good?"  
"Because she is my therapist too." Greg turned back.  
"Your what?" Mycroft looked Greg in the eyes. "Since when?"  
"Ages; although I'm not a good patient, I only go when things turn to the worse. Then we talk and...it helped."  
"What for?"  
"The eating problem; and not all of my scars came from my time in the streets; and...more." Mycroft fell silent.  
"I didn't know. Why?"  
"Because I'm fine; I've been fine for ages. The eating is under control; I don't have new self inflicted wounds...I’m fine."  
"I see."  
"Only if you want it too; of course."  
"I'll try it."  
"Thank you. I'll call her later." Greg got closer to Mycroft his head resting on his chest.  
"Mycroft..." he started.  
"You want to know what happened." Mycroft closed his eyes.  
"Yes." he whispered.  
"I killed him; isn't it enough?"  
"But..."  
"He had a knife; I took it from him...end of story." he whispered.  
"But why?"  
"Gregory..." he said wearily.  
"Why didn't you just use it to get out of there? You could have kept him at bay and just leave."  
"I...I was closed in there for days, starving, I almost froze to death, he beat me, forced me to…you know what; he wanted to rape me! I just wanted to get away from him; I wanted it to end. I was weak; he could easily overpower me...that wouldn't end well; believe me. I kissed him...he thought I gave in...but I took the knife and stick it to his neck. Happy now?" Mycroft got out of bed and closed himself to the bathroom.  
Greg stood up after awhile and knocked at the door.  
"My...I'm sorry. Please open the door. I'm sorry...I'm just...I'm still not fine; and I ask stupid questions...Sorry...I'm an idiot...I shouldn't have asked it...It wasn't me there......I don't know how I would have reacted in that situation. I know you just wanted to get away from him, I'm sorry I judged your actions. I don't have the right to do so...I'm sorry. Please My come out...please." he sunk to the floor. Please...I need you...My...please...I need you." the tears took over him. He didn't hear the door open; he looked up when Mycroft wrapped his arms around him. "I'm sorry Mycroft."  
"I know my dear...I know. Forget it. Come on you shouldn't sit on the floor; you'll catch a cold. I make us breakfast and then I call Dr. H."  
"Dr. H. it sounds like some criminal mastermind." he wiped his tears off.  
"She is scary; I warn you. She can get anything out of you just by staring at you. But I hope she can help..."  
"Okay. I'm not hungry."  
"Neither am I; but we have to."  
"I knew that this could happen; I knew it...I though it won't get to me; not this much......What's wrong with me My? What if I can't get over it; I'll never be able to work as a policeman again. What will I do then? What?"  
"I don't know Gregory."  
"How did you get over it?"  
"It was a different situation. My main concern was to survive, I had to find a place; avoid the others; I needed clothes and food too. I couldn't sleep at night, I saw him in every shadow; I thought he was there, coming for me. I was up all night sitting with a knife, I slept during the day with the knife; of course. After I got back my uncle arranged that I saw Dr. H. again."  
"When did you first went to her?"  
"When I was twelve, I guess. It was...it was a hard time for me."  
"How many times do you think I have to see her?"  
"I don't know, it depends on a lot of things...Come on, we should get up." Greg let Mycroft pull him up.  
"Will you come with me? Please."  
"I'll take you there, but I won't go in. I'll wait in the car."  
"Fine."

 

"My, please!" Greg asked him pleadingly for the hundreds time.  
"Gregory it's just up the stairs then left.  
"Please love; please!"  
"Stop looking at me like that! No...Gregory......All right." he got out of the car with a deep sigh. "This won't end well." he murmured.  
"What is it love?"  
"Nothing, come on; you'll be late." they walked up the stairs in silence.  
"Mycroft!" the doctor greeted him.  
"Dr.Holmes he is Gregory my friend."  
"Mr. Lestrade." they shook hands. "Well who's first?"  
"What?" Mycroft's eyes grew wide.  
"You thought that I'll let you get away with it?"  
"We are here because of Gregory."  
"I think Mycroft should start." Greg stepped forward. "He'll run away if he has to wait."  
"But we are not here because of me! I'm fine!" she just stared at him; Mycroft turned his eyes away. "I'm not going to get out of it."  
"No." he walked in without a word. "Thank you Mr. Lestrade."   
Mycroft came out an hour later; Greg couldn't determine what state he was in.  
"Please sit down Mycroft." Mycroft reluctantly sat down. "I'll be back in an hour."

 

"I like her." Greg said when they got home. Mycroft just glared at him. "What? She was much better than that woman. I think this can work."  
"I'm glad."  
Mycroft sat to the table and started to work. Greg knew that now the best thing was to leave him alone and wait. Greg was reading in bed when Mycroft finally emerged. He lied next to Greg and gave out a little whimper. Greg knew that he only wanted to get his attention; so he kept reading hiding his smile. Mycroft snuggled closer to him with a deep sigh and a few more whimpers; he looked at Greg from under the book.  
"Yes? Can I help you?" Greg looked down.  
"I'm fine."  
"Okay." Greg turned his attention back to the book. Mycroft pushed his head to Greg's lap and gave out a little whine. "What is it love?" he put the book down.  
"I'm fine."  
"You said it already."  
"But..."  
"You are fine; I know. That doesn't mean that you can't talk with her. Was it that bad?"  
"No...it was okay."  
"Then why are you sulking?"  
"Don't you think less of me because I go to her?"  
"My!" Greg pulled Mycroft to his chest. "Why would I? I'm glad that you are seeking help when it's needed. I don't want you to end up dead just because you think I'll think less of you for seeing a therapist."  
"Why would I end up dead?"  
"If you don't eat you'll die. You know that perfectly well. I don't know what else is there, but...I don't want to lose you."  
"I had depression…It was so sever I had to be on meds." he whispered.  
"Thank you."  
"What for?"  
"For trusting me enough to tell it to me."


	7. Chapter 7

"You're home early!" Greg said as he took off his coat. "Hi there!" he saw that Mycroft was lying on the sofa. "I have my own case! It's pretty easy, but still...it's mine! Anything home, I'm starving." Greg was in the kitchen.  
"On the stove."  
"Thank you."  
"What is the case?"  
"Murder disguised as suicide. I already have a suspect for it. I'm just waiting on forensics to conform my suspicion. How was your day?"  
"Short." Greg finished his dinner. "I take a shower." he gave a kiss to Mycroft's temple in passing. "My?" he stepped out of the bathroom few seconds later.  
"Yes my dear?" Greg sat next to him.  
"Are you all right?"  
"No." Greg placed a hand on his forehead.  
"You have a fever."  
"Mhmm."  
"Have you taken anything to it?"  
"Yes, but I throw them up, all of it."  
"Oh..."  
"It's just the flu. I hope you won't catch it."  
"I don't know; I could stay home with you...tempting. Come here and give me a kiss."  
"You want throbbing headache, fever, constant vomiting, your stomach wanting to crawl out of you because there is nothing else in it. I don't know anymore why my throat hurts. You want it?"  
"Nope. Anyways my boss would come here to see personally that I'm sick. Then he'd know that we're not just flatmates."  
"Something happened?" Mycroft sat up immediately pain flashing through his face from the movement.  
"Not to me. They don't know."  
"If someone hurts you just tell me the name and I had them fired or..." Mycroft lied back; Greg arranged the blankets around him. "Thank you Love."  
"What did they do?"  
"There was talking and some jokes...Ben had enough and asked for a transfer today. I feel bad for him, he was a good officer; he didn't deserve this...I...I didn't do anything! I mean I just stood by like the others, laughing when the others did...I'm disgusting!"  
"No, you are not. You just want to survive, you don't want to be a target, I understand it Gregory. I do, don't worry. The force was always a hard place for the ones that are different. It's hard enough for you being the youngest of the team, already having more success than the others. You just want them to accept you, unfortunately they are..."  
"Pigs."  
"Yes, do you want me to..."  
"Don't you dare. If I found out that you had me transferred, I...I, don't know what I'll do."  
"Leave me?"  
"You? You're not going to get rid of me that easily."  
"I hope so." Greg kissed his temple and left to fetch the thermometer.  
"Now back to you...39.5 good lord! Try taking one now, maybe your stomach calmed down enough."  
"Okay."  
"Here you go." Greg handed him the pill and a glass of water and left to take a shower.  
"How are you?"  
"It stayed down."  
"Good, we'll see. Can I turn on the tv?"  
"If it's not too loud. I'm sorry; I thought I better sleep out here."  
"It would be better in the bed, more comfortable, I can sleep out here."  
"Nope, you need to rest you have work tomorrow."  
"My..."  
"Don't argue." his eyes pierced through him.  
Greg watched the news and turned it off after that. He checked Mycroft's temperature again.  
"A bit better."  
"Hmm."  
"I let you sleep now, if you need anything just wake me. Promise?"  
"Sure, good night Gregory."  
"Night love."  
Greg woke up in the middle of the night; he walked out sleepily and stepped to Mycroft. He frowned when he placed his hand to his forehead, Mycroft stirred under his hand.  
"Love..." Mycroft just whimpered. "You have to take one again. It'll get better, I promise." Greg waited and checked his temperature again.  
"Still high. Can you get up?"  
"I don't want to, I'm cold." Greg left and brought back a bowl with cold water, he put ice cubes in it too. He took the blankets off Mycroft pulled him to a sitting position and took his t-shirt off too. "No, leave me be...no, NO!" he cried out when Greg placed a towel soaked in the cold water on him. "No, it's cold! Stop it, please Gregory, please...I'll get up, I do!"  
"So you are willing to sit in the tub filled with cold water?"  
"NO!" Mycroft continued to whine he was too weak to stop Greg who continued to wash him.  
"I'm sorry Love, I have to. Your temperature is too high...sorry...just a little bit more My." Mycroft gave up with the protest.  
"See, I'm done." Greg helped a new t-shirt on him and covered him with the blankets. "Go back to sleep My. I'll stay here." just when Greg was satisfied that his temperature went down he went back to bed too.  
"Morning love. How are you?"  
"Bit better." he muttered.  
"Good; 38.0. Hmmm, better than last night."  
"I hope you're not planning to torture me again."  
"Torture? My, your temperature was over 40 and it didn't react to the pills, I had to."  
"You look tired."  
"I am."  
"I'm sorry, it's my fault. I'm sorry."  
"It's fine, don't worry. Here, tea and water. Please try drinking today, I'll make you chicken soup when I get home. Call me if you need anything."  
"Thank you."  
Greg was working all day long; he only got home the next morning. He tried to call Mycroft several times during the day, but he didn't pick up the phone. He walked into the flat only to found it empty.  
"I'm going to kill you My!"  
He slept a few hours before he had to go back, but there was still no sign of him. Greg went back to the station. “Lestrade my office, now.”  
“Yes, Sir.”  
“You got transferred.”  
“Where to? Why?”  
“I have no idea, they’ll tell you in a few days. I’m sorry to see you leave.”  
“Thank you Sir.”  
Greg got the papers and went home; Mycroft was still not there so he went to see him in the office.  
"You can't go in there! Sir! Stop now!" Greg didn't pay attention to the guard; he marched to Mycroft's office. He was on the phone talking on a language Greg never heard before. He sent the guard away and motioned Greg to sit down.  
"You are dead!" Greg started as Mycroft put the phone down.  
"I had to come in, I had no other choice."  
"You're still feverish."  
"I know."  
"You promised that you won't interfere."  
"I don't understand."  
"Don't pretend My."  
"Gregory, please tell me what are you talking about."  
"I got transferred."  
"Where to?"  
"They didn't tell me yet. Maybe you can?"  
"I haven't done anything Gregory, you have to believe me."  
"Sure."  
"Gregory..."  
"I had enough of you for now." Greg stood up. "Go home My; now!" he said before he walked away.  
Mycroft quickly finished his work and went home, but Greg wasn't there. He called his parents, they said that he wasn't there but he didn't believe it.   
During the week he called, tried to visit but Greg was unreachable.

When Mycroft found out that Greg started to work on his new place he went to see him.  
"Lestrade, my office." Greg followed his boss to his office. He stopped at the door when he saw that Mycroft was there.  
"Mr. Holmes would like to talk with you." he left them.  
"Hello Gregory."  
"Mycroft." he greeted him coldly.  
"I just want to talk."  
"So finally you decided to tell the truth."  
"I didn't do it, honestly. I didn't!"  
"Finished?" Greg turned to leave.  
"I'm telling the TRUTH!" Mycroft sunk to the chair. "You can stare at me all day long, it won't change a thing. You asked me not to interfere and I respect your wish. I admit that I wanted to, god how I wanted to get you away from those idiots; but I didn't do it. Someone realised how good job you made and they thought that you’d have better prospects here. It wasn’t me..." Greg just kept staring at him. "Believe whatever you like Gregory." Mycroft said with defeat, he stood up clutching his umbrella. "I'm glad that you ended up here. I know the chief; he's a decent man...Good luck Gregory. I didn’t change the lock…" he walked out.  
"So you are staying?" his boss stepped to Greg.  
"What?"  
"He didn't ask you to join MI5 or 6? They usually collect like this. They found the talented young ones and steal them with an exciting spy story."  
"Oh, yes he did, but I'm fine here. I don't have enough black suits for that anyways."  
"Good, I'm glad. I haven't got my hands on you just to see you throw your life away. Because that's what happens to them, believe me!"  
"You worked for them?"  
"Yes; for his uncle."  
"Really? When?"  
"When I was young; don't you have something to do Lestrade?"  
"Yes Sir; sorry Sir."

Mycroft got home late at night, he was too tired to realise that another coat was hanging by the door. He took a shower and headed to bed, he stopped dead when he realised that someone else was in the room.  
"Don't just stand there My. I'm tired, I have work tomorrow." Mycroft got in bed; Greg reached for him and pulled him close. Mycroft rested his head on his chest and Greg wrapped his arms around him. "I'm sorry Mycroft."  
"It's okay Gregory."  
"No it's not. I should have believed you. I'm sorry. How are you?"  
"Fine, thank you. I missed you."  
"I missed you too."


	8. Chapter 8

Greg's parents were called to the hospital. Greg was shot during work, his condition was critical. His mother sat by the bed holding his hand, she was crying. His father was pulled aside by a nurse.  
"I'm hoping you can help us. We have a young man here who closed himself to one of the examining rooms. He was sitting by your son's bed earlier and then he talked with the doctors. He was very agitated after that. He only kept repeating; ‘It's my fault’ we couldn't get his name out of him or anything else. We tried to calm him but that didn't end well; one of my colleagues tried, he has a black eye and a dislocated shoulder.”  
"Is he lean, pale, brown-reddish hair, piercing blue eyes, black umbrella..."  
"That's him."  
"Mycroft." he sighed. "Where is he?" The nurse showed him the room.  
"Mycroft! Mycroft, it's me Greg....Please open the door, we need to talk. Please, open it.” when there was no answer he turned to the nurse. “Call a locksmith.”  
“It’ll take a long time.”  
“Hurry then, he might hurt himself.”  
"Do you think he would?"  
"Yes, now hurry!" he turned back to the door and continued to talk to Mycroft. “Please, Mycroft it's not your fault. You know that it's not your fault, we know it too, don't worry. This risk comes with the job, he knew it; he accepted it. You have nothing to do with it...please Mycroft. Mycroft please at least say something..." the locksmith arrived and the door was opened. Greg's father was the first to go in.  
"Mycroft? It's just me." Mycroft was curled up in the corner with his back to him. He stepped closer cautiously. “Are you all right?”  
"It's my fault." he whispered  
"Mycroft it's not. He was working, these things happen...we knew it; you know it."  
"No!" he knelt next to him and placed his hand on his shoulder.  
"Mycroft..." he sat up and buried his face to his shirt; he wrapped his arms around him.  
"...my fault...all of it...I can't lose him...I should have done something...I should have...I'm sorry, so sorry..." he whispered between sobs.  
"It's okay, it's okay. Shhh...He's strong, you know it. He can survive it, he can survive anything...he's going to be fine, he is..."  
"We don't know that! The doctor said that the chances of him surviving the night are close to zero! I...I can't lose him, not like this! It's my fault...I should have listened to him...I don't want to lose him!"  
"I know him, he won't give up, he's strong...he wouldn't leave us, not now. Come, let's go back to him." he pulled Mycroft up. "Are you all right?" he looked him up and down.  
"He told you!" he said with disbelief.  
"Yes he did, so we can make sure that you are fine in case of...in case anything happens to him. He's just worried about you."  
"I haven't done anything."  
"Good. Now let's go." he guided Mycroft back to the room.  
"Where were you?" Greg's mother asked as they got back.  
"I had to sort out a little matter."  
"What is he doing here?"   
"They are friends darling, you know it."  
"So you left to take care of him rather than your own son."  
"He needs help too, and there is nothing I can do that'll help Greg now."  
"Get out of here; I don't want to see either of you! Go and take care of your precious lost puppy!"  
Greg's father sighed. "All right darling, I'll be out here." she ignored him. "Come on Mycroft." he steered him away from the door.  
"No, I don't want to."  
"You can come back later, come let's have tea."  
"No, no, no!"  
"Mycroft..."  
"No, let go of me!" he tried to get free, but his hold was tight.  
"Mycroft, please calm down."  
"NO, NO! I want to go back, please...I have to...I want to be with him...No, let me go, let me...please...No...NO!" he continued to struggle and scream in his arms, until the nurse came and Mycroft was medicated.

When Mycroft came around someone was sitting by his bed, stroking his hair.  
"Gregory?" he whispered.  
"No dear, it's me."  
"Mummy." he opened his eyes.  
"Yes my dear. I'm here."  
"How's he?"  
"He survived the night, but still critical."  
"I want to see him."  
"Later my dear. You need to rest now."  
"It's my fault."  
"How would it be?"  
"It is! I want to go, now." he tried to get up, but his limbs were too heavy. "I want to go to him...I can't lose him...I can't." he whimpered.  
"I know my dear, I know." her mother kept stroking his hair until Mycroft fell asleep again.

 

"I don't want to, it's cold, I'm tired."   
"Stop whining Gregory. You have to get up."  
"Noooo."  
"Gregory, you're not willing to work with the physiotherapist, you're not eating."  
"I'm tired, I don't have an appetite; I just throw up anyways."Greg turned his back to Mycroft and pulled the blanket over his head. "Leave me alone." he whined.  
Mycroft pulled the blanket off his head and cupped his face. "Gregory Lestrade, the love of my life listen to me very carefully! It's not back!"  
"But..."  
"It's not that. It was a bullet, it's gone, you are healing nicely. You are going to be fine, but you need to get out of the bed for it; now! You have to eat to get back your strength. Please Gregory." Greg opened his tear filled eyes. "Gregory, you are going to be fine, I promise." Mycroft wiped down his tears and stroked his hair until Greg calmed down.  
"Okay." he sat up. "Let's do this." Mycroft smiled at him.  
"Good." he placed the walker in front of him.  
"I'm not hundred years old My."  
"I know, but you need something to support yourself."  
"You can help me like she helped me to stand up."  
"I could, but you have to walk on your own again. Now try standing up." Greg stood up slowly. "Good, good. Are you all right?"  
"Fine."  
"Not dizzy?"  
"Nope."  
"Good." Mycroft stepped back two steps. "Now come to me."  
"What will I get if I do it?"  
"A kiss."  
"I'm not sure I love you that much." he started to move forward eyes on the ground, so he couldn't saw the pain that flashed through Mycroft's face. Soon he was standing in front of him. "Don't!"  
"What is it Gregory?"  
"I was just teasing My. I would do anything for you. Anything, just ask." Mycroft kissed him.  
"Few more steps." he smiled.  
"Only if I get two this time." Greg frowned in concentration.

 

Greg was finally well enough to go back to work. Mycroft looked back from the door, the flat was half empty. He tried to persuade his legs to turn and leave, but it was too hard.  
'No, I can't do this to him...no. I have to protect him...there's no other way. He has to be safe...this is the only way. I know this has to be done; I know it...then why is it so hard? I don't want to lose him...I don’t want to; I need him. What if? No, I have to...for him. I'm sorry Gregory, I'm so sorry...You have to be safe, that's the only thing that matters." he turned and left.  
Mycroft moved back to his uncle. At first he tried to bury himself in work, he left early, came home late if he got home at all. He worked till he collapsed from exhaustion, not eating, drinking to forget; but it wasn't enough. He kept thinking of Gregory, how he missed him, how he hated himself for causing him so much pain. He watched him from distance; he saw how much it hurt him, how sad he was; he needed all his strength not to go back to him. Mycroft couldn't bare it; not anymore.  
He got home and sat in the office drinking staring at his gun; he took it and pointed it at his temple.  
"Mycroft!" his uncle shouted at him.  
"You're not supposed to be home." he didn’t look at him.  
"Put it down!"  
"No, there's nothing left for me."  
"Don't be ridiculous. You did the right thing, you know it."  
"Then why does it hurt so much?"  
"It'll pass, you'll forget him."  
"No! I don't want to forget him." his uncle stepped next to him and tried to take the gun out of his hand.  
"Give it to me Mycroft, now!"  
"No, no leave me alone..." finally he managed to take the gun from Mycroft.  
"Give it back!"  
"Stop this now Mycroft!"  
"Give it..."  
"SHUT UP!" his uncle yelled at him; Mycroft fell silent. "Finally. I know that I'm the last person you want to talk to right now, but I know what you are going through." Mycroft snorted. "I do. When I was young, I got one of my girlfriends pregnant, I can’t say that I really loved her, but things were different back then...So we got married and we had a baby girl, my wife died during childbirth. I was left alone with her, she was everything to me; I loved her more than anything. I was working in the field back then, I was caught by...doesn't matter. They tortured me, offered me deals but I didn't tell them anything. One day my daughter was brought in, she was just two years old; she kept giggling the whole time, until..."  
"Eleanor."  
"You knew?" Mycroft didn't answer. "Of course you knew. So you know why I say that caring isn't an advantage. I'm sorry; I tried to protect you from this. But you wouldn't listen, you had to get to this conclusion on your own, I'm sorry Mycroft. It took me time to get over it too, I understand. It'll get better, with time; I promise. Come on, get up." he pulled Mycroft up. "You'll sleep it off and tomorrow you talk to Dr. H. She'll know what to do with you."


	9. Chapter 9

"Anthea get your stuff packed."  
"Why?"  
"You got transferred."  
"Where to?"  
"Mr. Holmes."   
"Why me?"  
"You are the next in the alphabetical order.” he smiled. “Don't worry few days and you'll be back."  
"Thanks. You saw how they got back from him!"  
"Good luck." he grinned.  
Anthea got packed and went to his office; she was greeted by the former victim.  
"Thank god you're here! Bye!" she practically ran away.  
"Wait..." she called after her, but she was already gone. "Lovely." she murmured  
"I don't know; you could get a better one, but you can't argue taste." an ice cold voice came from behind her.  
"Mr. Holmes. My name is..."  
"Don't bother. Let's get started." Anthea followed him to the office. "These need to be filed; I need the papers, the usual; get the report from Norton. It should have been here days ago, but that idiot couldn't get it, she just cried her eyes out...pathetic. I also need surveillance on the Ugly duckling. That's all for now." Anthea left the office. She couldn't find anyone who would tell her what the usual papers were, so she got all of them, from every country she could. After that she left to talk to Norton, she knew him, it was no wonder her predecessor couldn't get it from him.  
"Mr. Norton."  
"Not now..."  
"I'm here on behalf of Mr. Holmes."  
"It's your turn now, lucky you. Why should I work instead of him, he just sits in his cushy office all day long giving orders...Tell to that asshole that over my dead body.”  
"That can be arranged."  
"Are you threatening me? ME!"  
"You know him." she smiled coldly. She didn't know a thing about Mycroft; only the gossips; the horrifying, hopefully exaggerated gossips.   
"Fuck you." he dropped the report on the table.  
"You wish." she took it and walked out.  
She returned to the office. "Here is the report and the papers Sir. If there's nothing else, I'm off to arrange the surveillance."  
"Thank you." he murmured not looking up. 

Anthea was having lunch; a thing that rarely happened, considering Mycroft was working without stopping to eat or drink. "Six months, that's a new record." one of her former colleague sat next to her.  
"Ha, ha. He's not that bad, the others were just totally incapable."  
"Sure. What if he fancies you?"  
"I'm married and so is he."  
"And? No one ever saw his wife."  
"You haven't met my husband either."  
"I heard Norton wanted to take you from him, but he wouldn't let it."  
"I would rather leave than to work for Norton you know it perfectly well."  
"Ahhhh; you fancy him too?"  
"Finished? I have things to get back to."  
Anthea got back to the office she put down the cup down so furiously that the tea spilled.  
"It'll stop, don't worry." Mycroft said not looking up from the papers.  
"Doesn't it bother you? We are both married. If these things got to me, they will reach Jasper too. That's what I need, he comes home from god knows where after months to these tasteless gossips...What does your wife think about it?"  
"I'm not married."  
"Oh...I see."  
"I'm gay."  
"Oh, okay. So your partner not bothered by the gossips?"  
“I don’t have a partner; not anymore. I hope I don't have to warn you that I know things about you; if you tell it to anyone..."  
"What do you know about me?"  
"Don't test me Anthea."  
"Yes Sir." she walked out a bit happy because this was the first time Mycroft used her name; also she was trying to find out what he could have on her. ‘Well surely not that...he wouldn't know about that!’ She suddenly turned white.  
"I won't talk if you do the same." Mycroft came after her.  
"I wasn't planning to, with or without the threat."  
"Thank you; I just...I..."  
"You clearly trust me...you wouldn't tell it to me otherwise. I will not betray your trust; promise."  
"Thank you. Could you type these?"  
"Right away Sir."

 

One morning Anthea walked into the office. Mycroft was sitting in his chair in a quite agitated state.  
"Sir? Is everything all right?"  
"Of course, now go."  
Anthea left, she arranged the smaller matters and went back with tea. Mycroft didn't look up from the paper.  
"Sir!" she stepped to him. "Mr. Holmes!" there was still no reaction. "Mycroft!" she shook his shoulder.  
"What is it my dear?" his head shot up.  
"You've been reading the same page for an hour now."  
"Oh, no no." he shook his head. "I was thinking, sorry."  
"Liar."  
"It's nothing." she just kept staring at him. Mycroft stared back at first; but he couldn't keep it up for long. He sighed and looked to the ground. "He got married." he whispered.  
"Who?"  
"Gregory." he muttered  
"Who?"  
"My...doesn't matter."  
"It does if it gets you in a mood like this."  
"Don’t you have something else to do?” he asked her in a cold voice.  
"Yes Sir." she took the paper from him, she was at the door when Mycroft spoke again.  
“Go home Anthea.”  
“What?”  
“Go home.”  
“And you?”  
“I’ll do the same.”  
“But…”  
“They survive a day without us.”  
“Are you going to be all right?”  
“Of course Anthea.”  
“All right, call me if you need anything.”  
“Thank you.”  
Anthea was on her way home when a young man bumped into her.  
“Hey! Watch where you're going!” the boy turned back for a second. “Hey! It’s you!” she hurried after him. She recognised him from the picture; they were trying to find him for a week now. “Wait!” Anthea grabbed his arm. The boy looked at her with a blank expression and then turned to leave. “No, no, no. You are staying here.” he took a hand cuff out of his bag and cuffed him to the bench. Then she took out her phone and dialled Mycroft. "Hey...Come back.” The boy was walking away again; she run after him and grabbed him by the collar. “Now you stay put.” she cuffed his hands behind his back, pushed him to the ground and sat on his back.  
“Anthea?” Mycroft asked for the hundreds time.  
“Here; sorry Sir. I found your lost duckling.”  
“Where?”  
“On the street. Where should I take him?”  
“Pick me up first.” Soon she pulled over in front of the building; Mycroft was anxiously pacing in front of it. He got in next to Sherlock.  
“What have you done to him?”  
“I made sure he stays put.”  
“Key!” Mycroft ordered and took the handcuffs off.  
“Don't touch me!” Sherlock finally focused on Mycroft’s face. “No! Let me go! I’m not going with you.”  
“Yes, you are Sherlock.”  
“Where to?” Anthea turned back.  
“Here.” Mycroft handed her the address.  
Sherlock pulled up his knees and looked hatefully at his surroundings.  
“You can’t force me to do anything.”  
“Watch me!”  
“I’ll tell mummy.”  
“What will you tell her? That you are a drug addict.”  
“I’m not an addict; I’m a user.”  
“This is the second time you've disappeared for weeks.”  
“I don’t need your help.”  
“Yes you do. You are going to rehab. We tell mummy that you’ll stay here with me for the summer because of a scholarship; or whatever....She’ll believe it as long as it has anything to do with school.”  
“No way!”  
“Yes way; Sherlock.”  
“You can’t keep me here.”  
“Yes I can.”  
“I can easily escape from your flat; you know that.”  
“You’re going to stay with uncle Rudy. It'll take you more time to get through his security.”  
“NO!” Mycroft remained silent keeping his eyes on his brother. Sherlock's pupils were constricted; he had dark circles under his eyes standing contrast to his paleness. He was sniffling; hopefully only a cold; Mycroft could see bruises hidden by his dishevelled clothes."  
Finally they stopped in front of the house. Mycroft dragged Sherlock out of the car, he tried to get out of his hold, but Anthea was there to catch him.  
“Thank you.” he said wearily, the front door opened.  
“Mycroft?”  
“Uncle Rudy, I need your help.”  
“Come on in.” Anthea managed to drag the screaming Sherlock to the house. “Again?”  
“Yes.” Mycroft said resigned. “I know I said that I can handle him; but...”  
“What’s the plan?”  
“Rehab. Can he stay here until I get a place for him? Please!”  
“Sure.” Mycroft took Sherlock from Anthea and took him to his room. Sherlock fell silent, reluctantly following him upstairs.  
“I don't want to stay with him!”  
“You wouldn't have to if you'd stay with me.”  
“He...I hate him! I hate you!”  
“I know, I know. Now take a shower and stay put.”  
“No.”  
“Sherlock!” Mycroft forced Sherlock to the bathroom and under the shower.

Uncle Rudy handed him a towel when Mycroft came down soaking wet with a black eye.  
“Thanks.” he sunk to the chair. He buried his face to the towel when Sherlock started to shout again.  
“Mycroft...”  
“I can’t do anything with him. Gregory could reason with him; always...but he wouldn’t listen to me!”  
“He’s still high.”  
“It doesn’t matter; he hates me nevertheless.” his uncle just sighed. “I know what you want to say; but I can’t stop it. He’s my little brother.”  
“I know Mycroft; I gave up trying to convince you. Now stop crying...”  
“Then pour me something to drink.”  
“Nope.”  
“Then leave me be.” he buried his face again. His head shot up when someone touched his shoulder.  
“Sorry Sir. I found a place.”  
“You did? Where is it? No one can know that he’s there...”  
“It’s in an island. There isn’t much there, I don’t know how willing he’d be to swim ashore...My brother works there, he said they can give him a place as soon as you want. Here are some details of the place.”  
“Thank you." he quickly scanned the paper. "Can I take him tomorrow?”  
“Of course. I call him back.”  
“Thank you Anthea...I better go and change.” he left.

“Miss...”  
“Mrs; but call me Anthea.”  
“Sorry. Since when he is in a state like this?”  
“He is perfectly fine, why do you ask?” uncle Rudy sighed.  
"He trained you well.”  
"I try but it's not easy to make him do anything. He’s not eating, not sleeping, he drinks..."  
"Does he see Dr. H.?”  
"Who?"  
"So not."  
“Because I’m fine!” Mycroft came back.  
“You are not.”  
“It's not that!” he whispered. His uncle just stared at him. “It’s not that! I’m just tired; we have so much work.” Anthea coughed. “Don’t you dare say a word!” he snapped.  
“Mycroft!”  
“I don’t need this, I’m going home.” before he could walk away his arm was grabbed by his uncle.  
“You stay young man."  
"No!" he started to struggle, but his uncle's hold was tight.  
"Then I close you next to your brother; so you can hate me together." Mycroft stopped struggling. "You are still visiting her."  
"Yes."  
"You remember what our agreement was. You can visit her but only if you go to Dr. H. You have to be checked Mycroft."  
"She can't do anything to me..." he trailed off.  
“You should stay here tonight.” Mycroft just nodded. “Thank you Mycroft.”  
When Mycroft left to his room uncle Rudy turned to Anthea again. “I need to ask you a favour; well a few favours. Could you go to his place now and collect all the alcohol and cigarettes you can find and stack his fridge. Here’s the key. This is Dr. H. number call her and schedule an appointment for him; use the name I wrote on the paper. I would also like to ask you not to mention this to anyone.”  
“Of course Sir.”  
“Thank you. You’ll have to make sure that he eats and drinks properly; you should send him home no later than six. He can stay longer if it’s really necessary, you can decide about that. You’ll have to make sure that he takes the meds if she prescribes them. I know I ask a bit much from you; but he trusts you, he might accept help from you. It won’t be easy, he’ll yell at you; he’ll threaten to fire you, but I’ll make sure that he won’t be able to do that.”  
“I’ll do it.”  
“Thank you very much.”

Mycroft went up to his old room listening to Sherlock shouting insults at him. He was about to go and talk to him when his uncle grabbed his collar.  
"Not now Mycroft. He's high."  
"But..."  
"You don't need this, not now. Come on." he steered him to the farthest bedroom. "I'll take him tomorrow."  
"But I..."  
"For your own good Mycroft; please. You are not well."  
"I'm fine." he wiped down a tear; his uncle just tilted his head.  
"What happened?"  
"Sherlock...I didn't know where he was for weeks; I had to hide it from mummy..."  
"What else?"  
"Nothing."  
"Mycroft!"  
"He got married." he whispered so quite his uncle almost missed it.  
"I see. Now you need sleep."  
"No..."  
"Mycroft, please." he sunk to the bed his tears falling, he could hear his uncle's sigh. Sobs started to leave his mouth uncontrollably; his body was shaking. "Please don't say it...not now..." he managed between sobs. His uncle sat next to him wrapping his arms around him tightly, Mycroft buried his face to his shirt holding onto him. "I'm sorry......sorry...please...I know...please"  
"Shhh, Mycroft. Shhhh, it's okay." it took a long time but finally he managed to tuck him in. 

“Whose place is it?” Anthea was startled by her husband.  
“My boss’s. He’s not here so I have to water the plants. Are you spying on me?”  
“Are you sleeping with him?”  
“Seriously; don’t tell me you believe those tasteless gossips. Come on in.” she dragged him in before he could make a scene on the corridor.  
“Anthea!”  
“His uncle asked me to look after him. I already told you how I try to keep him alive...turns out the problem is bigger than that. I have to remove anything that he could drink...also he needs food. That is the truth, which I shouldn’t have told you. He knows about that, so keep your mouth shut, for both of our sakes. Now don’t just stand there, help me so we can get back home sooner.” They went through the flat collecting everything in a bag.  
“That’s his uncle?” Jasper held up a picture.  
“Yes.” Anthea stepped to him.  
“Do you know who he is?”  
“Nope.”  
“Well I do. He was the head of MI6.”  
“Really?”  
“Hmmm. I knew he was familiar, I mean your boss. He worked with him when I started there. He was with us on some of the classes. He was different back then; we talked from time to time, it was very interesting talking to him...Where is his wife?” he looked through the other pictures.  
“We are not here to go through his private life.”  
“He’s not married.” he announced.  
“No...but I’m still not sleeping with him.”  
“Don’t ask me why, but I always suspected.”  
“What? Oh...” he showed up a wrinkled picture but she didn't look at it. “Now will you believe me that there’s nothing going on between the two of us.”  
“I’m sorry my dear. It’s...I’m sorry.”  
“It’s okay. Do not dare to tell this to anyone, or...” he kissed her.  
"I won't I promise."  
"Could you carry those? I don’t want to throw it out."  
“Sure.”

 

"Where is he?" Mycroft woke up to Sherlock's demand.  
"Working."  
"Sure; he's hiding. Coward!" he yelled.  
"Why are you yelling; he won't hear you. Someone needs to work. Who do you think sends you the money? Pays your rent?"  
"I didn't ask for it."  
"I know but you know him; he'll do anything for you. He is torn because if he sends it to you, you spend part of it on drugs; but if he doesn't then you'll starve to death." Mycroft could hear their voices getting quieter as their uncle dragged Sherlock to the car. He sighed and turned to his other side.  
Mycroft woke up to his uncle shaking him.  
"Five more minutes." he whimpered.  
"Mycroft get up; now!"  
"No." he pulled the cover over his head, it was harder then he imagined.  
"Now!" he was pulled out of bed.  
"Ouch!" He opened his eyes, the lights blinding him.  
"What day is it Mycroft?"  
"Saturday."  
"It's Sunday evening."  
"No it's not. Can I talk to him before you leave?"  
"Mycroft I just got back; he's settled." he stared up at him with confusion.  
"No!"  
"Yes, have you got out of bed at all?"  
"I don't think so." now he started to realise why he was so thirsty. "Oh..." he started to remember; lying in bed, not having the strength to move...he lost track of time.  
"Now try telling me that you are fine. I talked with your assistant you have an appointment with Dr. H. on Monday morning."  
"Okay." he rubbed his eyes.  
"Take a shower; I make you something to eat. Can you manage?" he asked after Mycroft almost collapsed when he tried to stand up.  
"Of course, I just need a little time."  
"You will stay with me for a while."  
"Why?"  
"Because I'm worried about you; and this situation shows that you need looking after. You'll have to let her do it too. Don't ask me why but she really wants to help you."  
"No..."  
"Mycroft; he got married, Sherlock misbehaved and you fell apart."  
"It's not that." he got to the bathroom door.  
"You know that I can see when you are lying." Mycroft buried his face to his hands.  
"Fine; I have to collect some stuff from my place."  
"Already done; your PA brought them over."  
"How kind of her." he murmured.  
"I'll be downstairs."  
"Thank you."  
"Don't blame her for this, she just wants to help."  
"I know; I know." he closed the door behind him.


	10. Chapter 10

"Anthea! Please have him brought in. Tell him my name and that I would like to talk to him. If he doesn't want to come, don't force him."  
"Yes Sir." Mycroft remained in his office and kept repeating to himself. 'I can do this, I can...'

Greg was having lunch when Anthea stepped to him.  
"DI Lestrade."  
"That's me."  
"I'm here on behalf of Mycroft Holmes." Greg put the fork down. "He would like to talk with you."  
"Now?"  
"If it's convenient."  
"Let's get it over with." they were driving in silence. Anthea kept glancing at him over her phone.  
"I'm Greg."  
"I know."  
"What is your name?"  
"Anthea."  
"How's he?"  
"I'm not at liberty to discuss his well being."  
"Okay, but I'd like to know what I am walking into." she didn't answer. "So he’s not fine...lovely."  
“I didn't say that...”  
"If he'd be fine you would said that."  
"No; I would never say anything about his well being."  
"But is he fine?" she just grunted and turned her attention back to her phone.  
Greg didn't wait for her when they arrived; he got out of the car and walked to Mycroft's office.

Mycroft heard the footsteps on the corridor. 'He came.' Greg walked into his office and sat to the chair. Mycroft looked at him, with emotionless expression. "Good morning DI Lestrade."  
"Morning." they stared at each other in silence. "So are we going to talk about Sherlock or not? I have to get back to work."  
"Yes; apologies." he shook himself. "I would like to ask you to consider letting Sherlock assist in a few cases. That might occupy him enough so he won't return to drugs. He is an addict; there is no point in denying it. I tried everything myself, but he wouldn't accept help from me, but he might accept it from you."  
"Why me? Don't you have men for this purpose?"  
"Sherlock wouldn't work with me; he made it perfectly clear. But he was more than willing; even happy to work with you."  
"So you need me to make Sherlock work for you."  
"No; I need your help to keep him away from drugs. He's not listening to me."  
"Okay, we can try. But I won't let him close to anything if he's high."  
"Naturally." Mycroft was surprised that he gave in so easily.  
"One condition, you tell me why." Mycroft looked down to the file in front of him. "After eight years; eight years Mycroft! I got home your stuff gone and a piece of paper with one sentence saying it's over. Why?" Mycroft didn't answer, he couldn't. "I deserve an explanation, after everything. Do you have any idea how much it hurt. Not knowing where you were; why you left..." Greg stood up and walked around the table, Mycroft did the same. "You promised that you won't disappear. You promised." Mycroft looked up.  
"Thank you for coming DI Lestrade, my assistant will give you my number."  
"No, I won't leave until I get an explanation."  
"Don't make me have you removed."  
"I'm not scared of you Mycroft. Tell me or I won't do it." Mycroft walked to the door and opened it.  
"Do whatever you want. Good day." Greg kept staring at him; he walked to the door with a deep sigh.  
"I would watch over Sherlock no matter what. He reminds me of you, lost, lonely, confused; I'll be in touch." Greg walked out, Mycroft's legs gave up and he collapsed to the ground.  
Anthea waited for Greg by the car. "His phone number."  
"Thanks, and yours?"  
"Why would I give it to you?"  
"Because he's too busy to be troubled with all the details of Sherlock's adventures by me."  
"He wants to know everything about him. That's why he asked you!"  
"He asked me because Sherlock always listened to me."  
"What? Oh...Greg......Gregory...it's you!"  
"He can play the cold and indifferent all day long, I can see what he hides so well from others. It'll be better for him, you know it too."  
"All right. Call me and then I'll decide." she handed him her card.  
"Thank you, please look after him." she just stared at him with confusion.  
"He seems fine now, but he needs to be looked after. Believe me, I know."  
Anthea found Mycroft sitting in the corner. She sat next to him. "You still love him." Mycroft nodded.  
"Then why ask him? You'll have to talk to him, meet with him...why?"  
"That's exactly why. There's no one else I'd trust. Sherlock always liked him; I hope he'll be more willing to accept help from him."  
"He said the same."  
"You talked?" he asked excitedly.  
"Yes. He asked me to look after you."  
"Oh...he's married." he whispered.  
"I know."  
"I know, I’m just reminding myself. We were together for eight years; I had to...I had to leave him, I had to protect him. He got over it."  
"You didn't." Mycroft shook his head. "Okay, now you need tea and food." she pulled him up. Mycroft followed her without a word.

 

'He's in the hospital; OD, I'm sorry.'  
Mycroft was sitting by Sherlock's bed all night long. Greg came to check on them in the morning. He saw Mycroft seated in a small uncomfortable chair, his head resting on his umbrella; he looked up when he heard Greg's footsteps. His eyes were filled with pain; he was exhausted; he quickly turned his eyes back at Sherlock.  
"How's he?" Greg hesitantly sat next to him.  
"He'll live."  
"I'm so sorry."  
"It's not your fault. You did everything you could; you kept him clean longer than I. Thank you." he finally looked at Greg. Greg could still see the pain in his eyes.  
"Still...I should have checked on him; I was just busy with work and finally I had a little free time to spent with my wife...I'm so sorry."  
"It's okay Gregory; we can't keep him under surveillance 24/7. I tried believe me; he always managed to get out of it."  
"When did it start?"  
"When he was 18; he run away; I managed to find him. He was so out of it, he didn't even recognise me. I took him home, sat with him during withdraw, then one morning he disappeared. He went home without a word. I hoped that I can keep an eye on him once he moved up for school; but he didn't want to live with me or uncle Rudy. He kept running away, so I rented him a place and then he stayed put; still taking drugs from time to time. After the first close call, he took some mixture of his own; I made him promise he'll write a list of what he took, for my sake. He promised and he does that every single time. When he doesn't end up here, I take him home; listening to him cursing me; telling me how much he hates me; trying to avoid the punches; well not always. I deserve them..."  
"Mycroft!"  
"Then he disappears again." Mycroft rubbed his eyes. "I should go back to the office."  
"Not until you've eaten something or at least a coffee." Mycroft stroked Sherlock's hair and followed Greg in silence.  
They were sitting in a bench drinking coffee.  
"It's my fault, all of it. I was too occupied with school and work, and I listened to my uncle; so I distanced myself from my family. I barely went home, I called and wrote only in a few occasions but it was nothing...but you know this. He needed me, but I wasn't there for him. I left, I wasn't there to protect him...You see, I'm still..."  
"We'll find a way." Greg took Mycroft's shaking hand; he immediately regretted it when Mycroft pulled his hand away quickly. "Sorry." he mumbled. "I'll get his apartment checked more often, I'll ask Molly to test him regularly. He has to move, the landlady said it to me. He needs a place and a landlady who won't put him out after his first experiment. I think he needs a flatmate too, not some planted agent; that won't work." Mycroft sighed, Greg just chuckled. "I can still read your mind. I'll talk to him about it."  
"Thanks. I'll try to find some suitable accommodation for him. I might have..." he trailed off.  
"How are you?" Greg asked worriedly; he saw that Mycroft was troubled, exhausted, he was losing weight again; he was paler than usual slightly trembling.  
"Tired."  
"I can see that, but otherwise." Mycroft sat in silence thinking what he should answer to that. He was brought back from his thoughts by Greg placing a hand to his shoulder. "I'm sorry Mycroft; I'm here if you need to talk to someone."  
"Thank you." Mycroft stood up. "I had to get back to the office now. Good day."  
"To you too. Look after yourself Mycroft, please."

"What do you think of him?" Greg walked up to the black car.  
"I'm not sure, not yet."  
"Sherlock seems to take a liking of him quite quickly."  
"Few words of praising and he fell for him, I'm just hoping he won't make it worse. Sherlock is back in the right track again, we don't need another slip."  
"He was quite surprised when I held a drug bust tonight." he chuckled. "I have a good feeling about him; he'll be able to handle him. Don't worry."  
"You know that it won't happen."  
"What?"  
"Me not worrying."  
"I know."  
"It's not just Sherlock who took a liking. They only met a few hours ago, but he already killed for my brother."  
"It was him?!" Mycroft looked at him. "All right boss, I know nothing. You like him too."  
"No, I fear him, for my brother's sake."  
"You'd had him taken in if that's the case."  
"I already know everything about him; even more than my brother. Also Sherlock would know, I don't want to alienate him further...I can't lose him." he added quietly.   
"I know Mycroft. I'll keep an eye on them."  
"Thank you. Call me if you need any help."  
"Will do." 

 

"You know, I think he's good for him. He stops him when he's too much, or reminds him to act like an almost normal human being...” they were in Greg's office.  
"Good?" Mycroft asked with disbelief. "They run around the city like two school boys, solving crimes. I have to clean up after them constantly; I have to watch them constantly...good!? He's a doctor he should know about secrecy but he has to write everything down on his bloody blog. He even wrote about me; ME. Can you believe that? He was angry with me when I had the post removed; and Sherlock backed him. It's worse than ever!" Mycroft was pacing.  
"You are jealous."  
"Don't be ridiculous Gregory."   
"You are." Mycroft sighed.  
"I'm worried, that's all." Greg kept staring at him. "Stop this. Gregory; stop it now!" he didn't listen to him. "All right, I'm not too happy to see him with Dr. Watson." Greg just kept staring. "I don't like...I hate that he has a better relationships with my brother than me! He's my brother, but we are like complete strangers. But he immediately trusted him, he accepts his advice, he listens to him...I know it's my fault...I just don't know what to do, how to reach him, not any more...happy now?"  
"I'm not happy about it Mycroft. Your relationship is too complicated..."  
"Non existing, you mean."  
"No Mycroft. Sherlock loves you, I know that you're not able to see it, but that's the truth, he looks up to you, he even listens to you..." Mycroft stood at the window. "Deep down he knows that all you want is for him to be all right, happy, safe. It's like...don't get me wrong, you act like his father, trying to tell him what to do, how to live his life. I know you are doing it for his sake!" he added quickly before Mycroft could intercept him. "But still he feels like that; and naturally he rebels." Mycroft sat down.  
"But I just want to make sure that he's fine. Why can't he see it?"  
"I know, I know. He was always different; he was a genius like you, but he was also a child. He wanted to act like a grown up; like you, to make you proud. But also he wanted to be normal, play games with the others without being mocked. Don't look at me like that; I saw it when we visited; also we talked..." Mycroft stood up again.  
"See even you have a better relationship with him."  
"Back then he did it to annoy you, remember?"  
"I remember." he whispered.  
"You just have to accept it."  
"What?" he turned back  
"That your little brother grown up and he doesn't need your help with everything."  
"But he..."  
"Yes he's still reckless, yes there is the possibility of him taking drugs again, yes he forgets the bills from time to time; but you don't have to hold his hand at all time. Also..." Greg fell silent.  
"Yes?"  
"You are lonely."  
"I'm not lonely!"  
"For a long time it was only the two of you, you argued a lot but still you talked, he was there. And now he has John and suddenly you found yourself on your own again..."  
"Finished?" Mycroft picked up his umbrella.  
"For now. Aren't you going to help us with the dead man in the trunk? Sherlock has no idea how..."  
"I don't have time to play."  
"Okay. See you." Mycroft walked out without saying goodbye.


	11. Chapter 11

Mycroft woke up to his phone, he looked at the clock it was two in the morning.  
"Hello Love."  
"Gregory?" Mycroft asked sleepily.  
"I'm drunk."  
"I can hear that."  
"Do you know where I live? They want to send me home, but..."  
"Where are you?"  
"Pub."  
"Thanks, which one? Never mind, I'll find you, just stay where you are."  
Mycroft collected Greg in 30 minutes.  
"Mycroft! You came!"  
"Come on Gregory, time to leave."  
"No, no, no."  
"Yes, come on. You had enough." Mycroft dragged him to the car.  
"I'm not sure if I'm celebrating or I'm sad because it's over." he sat close to Mycroft. "Thanks for picking me up."  
"No problem..." Greg silenced him with a kiss.  
"Gregory!"  
"What is it Love? Tell me you don't want this." Greg kissed him again.  
"Please stop it!" Mycroft asked pleadingly, Greg heard it and sat back.  
"I'm sorry, oh my God, I'm so sorry. Mycroft don't worry I'm not going to do anything. I'm sorry...just drop me here, I'll manage. God, I'm an idiot, sorry..."  
"It's okay Gregory."  
"No it's not! I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

 

Greg woke up with a killer headache, he didn't know where he was or what happened, he was in an extremely comfortable four posted bed. He sat up and looked around trying to figure out where he was. There was a note for him on the night stand.

'Gregory!

You are in my house.  
Mycroft  
Bathroom through the door by the window.'

Greg read it again, he sat on the edge of the bed trying to remember what happened last night, how did he ended up here. He stood up and headed to the bathroom. He looked in the mirror just realising that he was wearing a deep blue pyjama, he quickly took a shower, standing under the warm water, but his memory was still foggy. He found his clothes washed and ironed hanging on the inside of the bathroom door. He got dressed and set out to find Mycroft; Greg finally found him in the kitchen.  
"Morning, I got lost like three times, nice place."  
"Morning Gregory. How are you?"  
"Better than expected. Thank you for...everything. I remember nothing after ten. What happened?"  
"You called me at two in the morning, because you forgot where you live. I though it's better to bring you here than to leave you on your own. At least I could keep an eye on you."  
"Thanks. Sorry for this."  
"No problem. Coffee?"  
"Yes please. I don't know why I'm like this. She's been cheating on me for ages, this was inevitable. After the first time I hoped she'll change, she promised. But it's so easy to break a promise; I should know that by now." Greg fell silent. "Shouldn't you be at work? God I'm late too!"  
"Anthea took care of it, don't worry. She also forbade me to go in until Monday, she said I overworked myself."  
"Clever of her, you do look exhausted. Right, you get back to bed and I go home. What do you do tomorrow evening? I thought I'll invite you for dinner, I'll cook; to thank you for the help and so I won't be alone. I don't want to be alone, not now."  
"All right." Mycroft answered after a while.  
"Thanks, see you at seven. I'm sorry and thank you again. Do go back to bed Mycroft, you look horrid."  
Mycroft did as he was told; he slept through the whole day. He woke up in the morning and remembered Gregory's invite.  
'Oh god, what now. He said he only wants someone to talk to. It's not an easy time for him, but if...No he wouldn't, you know him...I miss him so much; maybe we can be friends again. I'd like that, I miss talking to him...I mean we talked, but mostly about Sherlock... I miss his laughter, his smile, I miss...who am I kidding, I'm still madly in love with him. Okay, we really have to keep it together this time, no drinking, not a bit. That way I won't say anything I'd regret. We might be friends again! YES, I’d love that, I miss him so much......He is divorced!...Don't get excited. He called me because he was drunk, that's all, he probably still hates me, I still hate myself for it...but he called me over for dinner! Probably just being nice...I don't know...I hate not knowing. What should I do know?' He reached for his phone.  
"Please tell me you're not cancelling." Greg answered it.  
"I don't want to make the same mistake again; I need to talk to you."  
"Okay, I have a little time now."  
"Thank you. When I picked you up you made a move on me..."  
"Oh, Mycroft I'm so sorry, I am, truly. I was drunk and stupid. I'm sorry; no wonder you are reluctant to come."  
"It's okay, nothing happened. I'm just confused..."  
"I just need a friend now Mycroft, I need my best friend, that's all; but you don't have to come. I understand, I really do; don't worry."  
"But you hate me because of what I did to you."  
"I don't hate you; I never hated you, Mycroft. I have no hidden motives, you have to believe me. I just don't want to be alone, because I'm afraid that' I'll drink again or worse, I'll go and see her."  
"You can stay here until you get better." Mycroft blurted. "I mean...you said you don't want to be alone...I have a few guest rooms as you saw...I..."  
"Thanks, but I think I'll stay home for now. But if I..."  
"You can always come over, whenever you feel like it. I'll be there at seven."

"I hope so."

 

Mycroft rang the bell.  
"I'm glad you came." Greg opened the door. "I'm almost ready. Can you help?"  
"Sure." Mycroft took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. "What do you need?" Greg's eyes stopped at Mycroft's exposed arms, he saw countless of faint scars covering them. He cleared his throat quickly looking elsewhere, hoping that Mycroft didn't realise it.  
"Can you set the table? Plates are there." he pointed to one of the cupboards. Mycroft set the table, and looked around the flat, it was already half empty, it reminded him the time he packed up and looked back from the doorway. Greg came out of the kitchen. "Sorry for the mess, I cleaned, but I'm not that good at it as you know."  
"No worries. How are you?"  
"Confused, I'm sad because it's over, I loved her, I was happy with her. It hurts what she did to me, not as much..." Greg bit the end of the sentence.  
"As it hurt when I left you." Mycroft finished for him.  
"Yeah; I also feel relieved, truth to be told. I suspected it, but I was too afraid to face it. And there is a bit of shame, for not seeing it earlier. So you see, lot of confusion. I'm sorry again, I was drunk and...sorry."  
"It's okay, don't worry."  
"I hate how dad looks at me trying to determine if I'll break again. I won't, by the way but it's rather annoying."  
"I know the feeling." Greg looked at him with doubt.  
"Anthea looks like that at me most of the time."  
"I'm glad she looks after you."  
"Sometimes me too."  
"The worst part of it was Sherlock announcing that she was still cheating on me in the Christmas party. I have my ways to get revenge for it. Just saying, if he runs to you cursing me, you'll know what it was."  
"Do as you like."  
"Come on let's eat. I'm starving." They sat to the table. "I made pasta if it’s okay; you always liked it and it's easy to make." Greg smiled. "Wine?"  
"No thank you. I don't think you should either."  
"You are probably right, my liver would appreciate it."  
"It most certainly would." they ate in silence.  
"How was it?"  
"Delicious as always. Thank you."  
"You barely ate." Mycroft turned his eyes away. "Mycroft?"  
"We are not here to talk about me."  
"We are here to talk about whatever we want or need to. So what's up with the eating this time? You are definitely not fat..."  
"I don't deserve it." Mycroft whispered.  
"Why do you think you don't deserve it?"  
"I just don't...can we talk about something else?" Greg stayed silent, looking at him.  
"Persistent as always.” Mycroft sighed. “You look at me, still seeing a lost, confused boy, a decent person but in fact I'm the worst of all in the planet. I have done things you couldn't imagine, bad; horrid things starting with leaving you and my brother; leading up to mass murder...So you see I'm a monster, I don't deserve it. Anthea looks after me, but I don't deserve that either, I...she forces me to eat, when she can; as you can imagine it doesn't happen very often......There are times when I do good according my standards, then I eat too much...I'm constantly worried for Sherlock, for you, for Anthea. I became the cold emotionless robot my uncle wanted me to be, or I try to be. Do you know how they call me? Antarctica, that's who I am at all time...I let the ice took over me, it was easier......" he spoke without stopping for air.  
Greg cut him off. "Jesus Mycroft! You are not a monster."  
"I AM!" he stood up abruptly. "You know nothing Gregory!" Greg stood up too and walked around the table keeping a safe distance.  
"Mycroft please listen to me. I don't know what you did or why you did it, but you shouldn't torture yourself, no matter what."  
"I do what I want."  
Greg sighed. "Yeah and the world collapses into chaos because of your death."  
"I'm just a nobody. It's just Sherlock's imagination."  
"No you are not." Greg stepped closer.  
"I am. I'm an idiot, a lonely scared pawn, hated by his brother, his parents, his colleagues, by everyone! I only cause problems to the ones who get close to me; I only bring suffering to their life. I deserve suffering, I deserve it!...At least it lets me control my fear, for a while. I have too many emotions eating me away...I have to silence them somehow...I have to, because I can't bare it...I can't...I left you without an explanation, do you know why? I wanted to protect you. You were shot because of me, they found out about you and they wanted to destroy me by killing you. You survived, but they succeeded...you don't know but I was out of my mind, I had to be medicated to function normally. I just wanted to protect you...you had to be safe. You see I'm broken, weak, I'm nothing...I'm sorry, I better leave now. I'm sorry...I shouldn't have said it. Sorry!" not waiting for an answer Mycroft picked up his jacket and walked out. Greg immediately ran after him, but he quickly lost sight of him. He got back to his flat franticly looking for his phone then he called Mycroft; there was no answer so he dialled Anthea.  
"You should have told me! I asked you how he was and all you said that he is fine. Well he's bloody not!"  
"Where is he now?"  
"I hope on his way home. I'm going over to check on him."  
"I'll meet you there."

 

Mycroft was sitting in his home office drinking whiskey when he heard the front door opening.  
"I'm fine Anthea, you can go home." he said not looking up when someone came into the office.  
"No you are not." Mycroft dropped the glass.  
"Gregory?"  
"I am here Mycroft, Anthea let me in. Looks like it's not only your brother who needs to be checked. Tell me you haven't drunk all of that just now." he pointed at the empty bottle.  
"I might have."  
"You have or not?"  
"I have." Mycroft whispered.  
"Shit Mycroft!" Greg took out his phone, but Mycroft couldn't hear who he was talking to, nor what he said to him afterwards.

 

Mycroft woke up, he could feel that he was in a bed, not his own. He faintly heard the beeping of a monitor that was too loud, his throat hurt, his head ached...  
"You are in the hospital Mycroft." Anthea spoke next to him. "Alcohol poisoning." Mycroft didn't answer. "What happened?"  
"He needed someone to talk to, he wanted to know how I am...I told him, I told him everything, even the things I don't admit to myself. I felt stupid, I wanted to be friends with him again and I screwed up...again, I ruined it."  
"So you went home to drink yourself to death."  
"I'm sorry."  
"I know. Greg told me you offered him to stay with you until he gets better, I gave him a key. It'll be better for the both of you."  
"I don't think so. I don't even know why I offered it in the first place. Anthea I still love him!"  
"I know and he loves you too."  
"No, he's just confused because of the divorce."  
"It was I who saw him after you passed out. He said he'll visit you in the afternoon, so you'll be able to see it yourself."  
Greg came in after his shift.  
"Don't you dare doing this again Mycroft Holmes!"  
"I'm sorry Gregory. I felt bad for burdening you with my petty problems at this time."  
"Petty? Are you serious? My divorce is nothing compared to this! Mycroft why didn't you say something; every time we met or talked I asked how you were. You could have told me! You should have."  
"Why do you care about me? After everything I did to you; walking out on you, dumping my brother on you..."  
"Why not?" Greg just stared at him and Mycroft knew he won't get more out of him, he never could whenever the 'why not' came up. "If it's still okay with you I accept your kind offer."  
"You already have a key."  
"Yes, but I thought I ask it nevertheless."  
"I'm glad you accepted."

 

Greg moved in and looked after Mycroft and Mycroft looked after Greg. In the beginning there was lots of arguing and shouting, but eventually Mycroft accepted help and started to look after himself. Greg was occupied enough with Mycroft so he didn't have time to worry about the divorce and the aftermath. Although Greg was fine they never discussed the possibility of him moving out.  
They were cooking one evening listening to the radio. Mycroft could see that Greg was troubled by his latest case; he pulled Greg away from the chopping board. "What?"  
"Dance with me." Mycroft smiled at him.  
"All right." They danced around the kitchen, Mycroft smiling at Greg, seeing how he got relaxed until the pot on the stove got Greg's attention. "Mycroft!"  
"Oh!" Mycroft released Greg with a kiss, not realising what he did. Greg stood frozen; he turned to the sound of the pot falling to the ground and ran after Mycroft. He stood in front of his room knocking continuously.  
"Mycroft open the door now! Please open it. Please we'll sit down and talk, don't worry. Mycroft? If you don't open this bloody door I'm going to break it!" there was still no answer. Greg went to the shed and returned with an axe. "All right Mycroft. I have an axe, if you want to keep your beautiful door, you know what to do!" Mycroft finally opened the door.  
"Here you are! See it wasn't that bad. Come on we talk now." They were sitting at the table in silence, Mycroft staring at his hands and Greg watching him.  
"Okay, what was it? I want the truth Mycroft."  
"It was a kiss."  
"Thank you, I know that."  
"I love you." Mycroft said quietly. "That's the truth, I never stopped loving you. That's why I tried to keep a distance. Then you moved in and we became friends again and I was happy…so happy, I got my friend back...And tonight, I don't know what happened, I saw that you were troubled I just wanted to get your mind off work, so I thought dancing could help......we were dancing like we used to and I kissed you like I used to; at first I didn't even realised what I did. I ruined it again, I told you I'll ruin our friendship; I did it once and now again."  
Mycroft only realised that Greg was sitting next to him when he was pulled into a hug.  
"My dear idiot. I knew it all along, that's why I didn't force you to meet more often, that's why I called Anthea whenever Sherlock misbehaved. But after your trip to the hospital I had no other choice; we had to keep you safe. I saw how you tried to avoid me at first and I wasn't sure that this was the right thing to do. Then I saw how easily you got used to the situation, how you loved it; how you got relaxed, you talked to me more and more; so the little voices stopped nudging me. This few months were enough to realise how much I missed you, how happy I was to be here with you, to talk to you, to see you smile again, not the fake smile I saw whenever we met before. I waited because I wasn't sure what to say, or when...or how."  
"You think that I'm an idiot?"  
"Seriously that's the only part you heard?" Greg released Mycroft so he could look him in the eye. "Yes you were an idiot, but you are my idiot. I love you too." Mycroft smiled at him and stroked his face.  
"I missed you so much."  
"Me too. Now that we settled this we have another matter to attend to."  
"What matter?"  
"The state of the kitchen."  
"Oh, yes sorry. I'll take care of it."  
"I'll help. Oh wait." his phone was ringing.  
"I have to go back." he looked at Mycroft worriedly.  
"I won't change the lock, I won't disappear. I promise, this time for real."  
"Okay, don't wait up."

Greg got home in the early hours, he stood in front of Mycroft's door debating whether to check on him or not. He decided not to disturb him, so he went to bed. He almost fell asleep when he felt the bed dip next to him.  
"Mycroft?"  
"I couldn't sleep. Truth to be told, I haven't slept well since I walked away."  
“Come here.” Mycroft snuggled close to him.  
"So case closed?" he changed the subject.  
"It is. I can sleep the whole weekend; finally. Hopefully your brother will let me."  
"I'll ask Anthea to keep him distracted."  
"That would be nice, just this once." Mycroft reached for his phone. "Done."  
"Thank you." Greg pulled Mycroft closer. "Now sleep." Mycroft was quickly asleep, but Greg couldn't because his phone was ringing.  
"Where is he?" Anthea demanded.  
"Sleeping."  
"Are you sure?"  
"Yes."  
"How do you know? Why didn't he pick up his phone?"  
"He silenced it." Greg answered after he checked Mycroft's phone.  
"Go and check on him."  
"No need."  
"There is; it's 6 o'clock he never sleeps this long."  
"Anthea, he is sleeping, believe me."  
"Oh...OH; finally! I hope I don't have to warn you if you break his heart, you'll regret that you were born."  
"It wasn't me who..." Anthea put the phone down.  
Mycroft stirred next to him; Greg started to stroke his hair. "Sorry, Anthea was worried about you. Go back to sleep My, I'm here, I'm not going anywhere." Mycroft quickly drifted back to sleep.  
Greg woke up; he opened his eyes to see Mycroft sleeping next to him. He looked so peaceful, calm. "Morning Gregory." Mycroft yawned.  
"Go back to sleep My." Mycroft chuckled. "What now?"  
"Nothing.”  
“How did you sleep?"  
"Very well, thank you. I'm hungry."  
"You're what?"  
"You heard me perfectly well."  
"Mycroft Holmes said that he's hungry. Am I dreaming?"  
"Shut up."  
"Make me!" Mycroft gave him a quick kiss, Greg chuckled. "Come on let's eat."


	12. Chapter 12

Anthea got out of the car; he opened the other door and helped Mycroft out. Greg took him from her, Mycroft barely stood on his feet.  
"Thank you Anthea."  
"He'll have to come in tomorrow, I can deal with the clean up; they just have to see that he's still functioning. Don't let him..." she sighed. "You know it."   
"Thanks. If you need help just call!" she waved and got back to the car.   
Greg guided Mycroft into the house. "When was the last time you ate?...Mycroft?"  
"I'm not hungry...I can't...I'm going to be sick." Greg helped him to the bathroom. They were sitting on the floor, Mycroft was gagging but his stomach was empty.  
"Water?" Greg asked with a glass in his hand. Mycroft shook his head and turned back to the toilet; he was still gagging and he started to shake. Greg stroked his back soothingly until Mycroft sat back, taking deep breaths trying to calm down, his head shot up when Greg started to talk.  
"Come on Mycroft, you should take a shower." the fear turned to relief in his eyes. He nodded, Greg helped him up and they walked up to their room.  
"Can you manage?" Mycroft nodded and headed to the bathroom. After a while Greg got impatient and knocked on the door. "Mycroft? Are you all right? Can I come in?" there was no answer, so Greg went in worriedly. Mycroft was sitting in the tub, his face was hidden by his hands, but Greg could see that he was crying. "My." he knelt next to him and placed a hand on his head. Mycroft leaned to his touch; Greg opened the tap because the water was already cold and washed the dried blood off Mycroft.  
"It's not mine, I fell into it."  
"I know Love." He helped him out of the tub, dried him, helped him get dressed and put him to bed.  
"Do you want me to stay?"  
"Please." Mycroft whispered. Greg sat next to him. "No!"  
"You want me to leave?"  
"No!" Greg settled next to him pulling Mycroft to his arms and kept stroking his hair. Mycroft was crying then he stopped and started again, then again; it went on for hours. Mycroft fell silent again so Greg tried to slip out of bed, but Mycroft's hold tightened around him. "Don't leave me!" he whimpered.  
"I need to go to the bathroom My. I'll be back in a minute."  
"No!"  
"Yes love." Greg got up he looked back at Mycroft, who curled up and kept staring at Greg miserably. He went to the bathroom and also made a quick call. "See I'm back." he said as he sat on the bed. "I brought you water and..."  
"NO!"  
"Mycroft please, at least drink a little water."  
"Leave me alone!" Mycroft turned his back to Greg.  
"Are you sure?"  
"LEAVE!"  
"Okay Mycroft, I'll be downstairs." Greg put the water and the pills to the nightstand and walked out.  
He cooked and went up to check if Mycroft wanted to eat, but he sent him away again. Greg was working when he faintly heard his name; he walked up to find Mycroft sitting on the top of the stairs.  
"Everything all right Mycroft?"  
"I feel dizzy."  
"Come on; let's get you back to bed." Greg pulled him up, he had to hold Mycroft tightly so he won't fell.  
"Have you taken them?"  
"I'm tired."  
"Of course you are." Greg put him to bed and stayed with him till he fell asleep, then he left to retrieve his laptop and phone. He saw that Anthea called him several times, so he called her back.  
"How's he?"  
"Not well. He's sleeping now, although I had to give him pills for it. I asked Dr. H. before it; she's out of the country, but she'll be home in a few days. She said that I can give them to him if really necessary...I think it was, he did nothing else just crying, whimpering, panicking and shaking terribly..."  
"Have you talked?"  
"No, he didn't want to."  
"They want to talk with him; do you think he can do it? Also Sherlock called their parents, so they are coming too."  
"We can only hope."  
"Try talking to him, prepare him."  
"Thanks. I'll try."

Mycroft slept through the remainder of the afternoon and the bigger part of the evening. Greg took a shower and found Mycroft sitting in front of the door when he came out.  
"Hi there."  
"You left me."  
"Sorry love, I just took a shower. Do you think you can eat a little?" Mycroft shook his head. "Okay, at least drink a little water, for me."  
"Okay."  
They got back to bed, Mycroft's head resting on Greg's chest. "My we need to talk." Mycroft tensed up. "You have to go in tomorrow; they want to talk with you."  
"I can do that." he whispered after a while.  
"Good. Your parents will be there too."  
"Oh...I'll manage...Anthea will be there."  
"Yes she will." Mycroft was silent for a long time; Greg thought that he fell asleep, so he tried to settle in a more comfortable position.  
"Don't leave me!"  
"I'm not going anywhere, don't worry. You really have to sleep."  
"I can't."  
"Please try; you'll have a hard day tomorrow."  
"I can fake it."  
"What?"  
"That I'm fine and stable."  
"I know you can."  
Mycroft was up all night long, Greg couldn't fell asleep either.

Anthea came in the morning to collect him.  
"He looks terrible."  
"You too."  
"Thank you Greg."  
"He didn't sleep or eat. I'm sorry."  
"I just hope he'll be able to get through the day...for his sake."  
"Me too. Call me if something happens."  
"Will do."

 

"I'm scared Gregory." Mycroft was curled up on the sofa next to Greg who was working.  
"Of what?"  
"Her."  
"She's back in Sherrinford."  
"Mummy."  
"Oh, she loves you, no matter what and you know that. She just needs time. You remember what happened last time."  
"I'm not so sure; it's worse than that. I'm sorry."  
"Whatever for My?"  
"You have to sit here babysitting me. ME!" Mycroft sat up.  
"Please Mycroft don't..."  
"It would have been easier for everyone, for mummy, for Sherlock, for you! No one needs a monster like me, no one!"  
"We do need you Mycroft."  
"Nonsense." Mycroft stood up.  
"My please come back."  
"I told you I only cause suffering. I closed her away, my own sister...she was just five! Then I almost killed my brother and you. But that's not all, because now I risked Sherlock and Dr. Watson's life again. He has a daughter...and because of me she almost lost everyone who cares for her. They died, because I was an idiot!" Mycroft was shouting by the end, Greg followed him through the house.  
"My, please. You had no other choice."  
"I had, I should have smothered her to death after she killed Victor. I almost did it, she woke up and kept staring at me with her cold blue eyes; she didn't give a sound...I should have done it..." they were in Mycroft's office.  
"Mycroft put it down!" Greg snapped, when he saw that Mycroft was holding a gun.  
"I should have froze to death, or die in the basement...I'd deserved that. That way no one would have to suffer because of me...my uncle...he wasn't supposed to be home...I could have ended it, he should have let me..." Greg stepped closer but Mycroft pointed the gun at him. "Don't come closer Gregory; I don't want to hurt you."  
"Mycroft what are you planning to do?" Mycroft walked to the door, Greg wanted to follow him, but he stopped when Mycroft fired the gun. "Next time I won't miss." Mycroft walked out and closed the door behind him. Greg stepped to the desk and tried the phones, but they were disconnected, his mobile was back in the living room.  
"Fuck, fuck, fuck. Mycroft...for god's sake what are you doing?" he looked out of the window contemplating his options. 'First floor, no tree, window...oh, can't be opened or broke. Okay...okay, don't panic. I have to pick the lock somehow...damn that's secured too. My, Mycroft....oh love...please don't...'  
"MYCROFT!" he started to shout. "Please come back, please. Don't do this My." he sunk to the floor when he realised that the room was sound proof. He sat on the floor all night long and jumped up when the door opened.  
"Mycroft!"  
"Sorry it's just me." Anthea answered.  
"I don't know where he is. I...sorry." Greg was shaking.  
"He's in bed in one piece."  
"He is! Oh...thank god." he sighed with relief.  
"I found him in the wardrobe with the gun, he was sleeping. I took the gun and managed to persuade him to relocate to the bed. He kept repeating that 'he didn't mean to shoot you', and that 'he's sorry'. I gave him from the sleeping pills to make sure that he...I thought he killed you."  
"Just a warning shot."  
"I'm glad you are fine."  
"Thank you."  
"Come on you need coffee and breakfast."  
"First I want to see him."  
"Sure. I’ll be in the kitchen."  
Greg went to check on Mycroft, he was in bed, dark circles were under his eyes, even in sleep fear was visible on his face, he was holding onto a pillow like his life depended on it. He bent down kissed his temple and put a note for him on the nightstand.  
'My, I'm fine. I love you, no matter what. Gregory'

"What now?" he asked Anthea as they sat down to have breakfast.  
"He can stay home for a week. They didn't notice anything. I still think it was too much what he got from his mother... I arrange that he sees Dr. H regularly. He'll be watched more closely after this, so we have to be careful."  
"Sneak her in, in a secret tunnel." Greg joked; Anthea tilted her head. "Don't tell me there are tunnels under the house."  
"Just two."  
"Of course." Greg fiddled with the mug. "He said something...he said that his uncle wasn't supposed to be home, that he should have let him finish it. Do you know what he meant by that?"  
"Before my time but I recon he tried to kill himself after he left you."  
"Oh...he didn't tell me about that. Thank god he didn't do anything this time. How am I going to leave him alone after this?"  
"He wouldn't do that."  
"How do you know?"  
"You are back together." she said with an isn’t it obvious look.

Greg was sitting on the bed next to the sleeping Mycroft, reading loudly. He stopped and put the book down with a deep sigh.  
"Please don't stop." Mycroft whispered.  
"I'll read more if you get up and eat." Mycroft didn't answer. "Just a little soup at least, please My. You can't do this to me." Mycroft got out of bed. "Thank you Love." Greg followed him relieved. Mycroft ate a little, it wasn't much but Greg was happy that he managed this much.  
"Aren't you coming?" Mycroft asked as he stood up.  
"I have to go shopping. I'll be quick."  
"You said...never mind." he said disappointedly.  
"I'll read to you after I get back, I'll read to you for the remainder of the day and the night and tomorrow, I promise. We need food My, you know it. Anthea is working, I don't want to bother Sherlock and John now..."  
"It's okay. You think it's wise to leave me alone in a state like this?"  
"Guilty tripping...no it's not wise, that's why you should take one." they got back to their room.   
"I'll take it but first I have to use the bathroom."  
"Sure." Mycroft got back and took the pills.  
"Will you stay till I fell asleep?"  
"Of course. Do you want me to read?"  
"Yes please." Greg kept reading until he fell asleep and then left to do the shopping and to collect Sherlock.

"Sherlock you have to come with me."  
"Where? Why?"  
"No questions; just come."  
"What about Rosie?"  
"Bring her too."  
"But why?"  
"Hurry up! You won't regret it, I promise." Sherlock reluctantly got packed and sit to the car.   
"What are we doing here?" he asked when they stopped in front of Mycroft's house.  
"You'll see."  
"I'm not going to run after his bloody pearl."  
"It's more interesting than that. Come on."  
They went upstairs. "The office is not this way Lestrade."  
"I know, give me Rosie."  
"Nope."  
"Sherlock it'll be better for her not listening to you discussing murders."  
"She's not even one years old, she won't remember it. What murders?" he asked excitedly as he handed Rosie to Greg.  
"Ask your brother." Greg pushed him to the room and closed the door behind him.  
"Lestrade? What is this?" Sherlock tried to open the door. "Open the door now! I'm going to..."  
"You're going to do nothing to him!" came a tired voice from behind him. Sherlock turned and looked around. He was in Mycroft's bedroom; his brother was in bed with his back to him   
"What is this Mycroft?"  
"He wants us to talk."  
"Talk? About what?" Mycroft didn't answer. "Then we wait a bit and tell him we talked."  
"Not going to work."  
"Why not? He's just a goldfish, he won't realise it."  
"He'll know."  
"I fooled him several times, he won't, believe me. What is he doing here anyways?" Sherlock sat to the bed.   
"We got back together after his divorce."  
"What? You and him? Again? Wait what?" Mycroft sat up.  
"You deleted him! Seriously Sherlock...I though you just pretended because you were still angry with me for breaking up with him. You always liked him; I couldn't keep you away from him whenever we visited..."  
"I...no...You can't expect me to remember all of your boyfriends."  
"I only had two. Gregory and I were together for eight years!" Sherlock sat deep in thoughts.  
"Gregory!" he muttered. "Oh, no...it's him! Him!...you and...he...Eww." Sherlock stood up abruptly.  
Mycroft lied back. "Don't be so immature Sherlock."  
"Why didn't you tell me?"  
"Why didn't you see it? Anyways you weren't interested in me or my personal life."  
"I asked if you found yourself a goldfish."  
"Gregory is not a goldfish, and I told you I wasn't lonely."  
"What do we need to talk about? My?"  
"Sherrinford." he whispered.  
"What about it?" there was no answer. "I know why you did it, I understand. You wanted to protect us and you did it, God knows what she'd done to us. Mummy...well she'll calm down you know her. She loves you; she just needs a little time to process."  
"It would have been easier for her if I'd die. She would get her daughter back and finally get rid of the lying, distant, cold monster that she has the luck to call son."  
"My, please don't." Sherlock walked around the bed and knelt down so he could look Mycroft in the eye.  
"It's okay brother mine." Mycroft reached out and stroked his hair.  
"I wouldn't do that Mycroft. I would never kill you."  
"You would, if there was no other choice."  
"My..."   
"You would bare my loss easier than the loss of Dr. Watson. I know that, don't worry. You need him more than you need me."   
"That's not..."  
"That's the truth brother mine. I'm a stranger to you, nothing else. He's always there for you, he always helps; you need him. I, on the other hand..."  
"Mycroft please. I need you too." Mycroft laughed softly. "I do My. You were always there for me; I don't know what would I do without you."  
"I wasn't there; I listened to uncle Rudy and left you too."  
"That's why you get me out of all the troubles and cleared my records, that's why you managed to keep me in school, that's why you sent Lestrade to look after me, that's why you found Mrs. Hudson, that's why you sat by my bed every time...Mycroft? My? MY!" he didn't open his eyes. Sherlock took out his phone and called Greg.  
"Have you talked?"  
"I can't wake him!" Sherlock said with panic.  
"Oh, wait..." Greg opened the door, gave Rosie back to Sherlock and sat to the bed. "We've been giving him pills to prevent any catastrophes. He got quite a dose today but we had no other choice. He's not fine Sherlock...Have you talked?"  
"Yes, a bit. He..." Mycroft started to whimper next to Greg. "Shhhh, love it's okay. You are safe, we all are. You are safe and home. Shhh, shhh." he stroked his hair to calm him.  
"I wouldn't kill him, he's my brother. I love him, I know I don't always show it but I do. I found a way to get out of the situation, he was there, he knows."  
"Not now. Now he feels that everyone is against him, that he's alone and no one wants him, no one loves him. I hoped if he hears it from you he'll believe that he's loved and needed."  
"I don't know if it worked, he fell asleep in the middle of it."  
"At least now you know." Rosie demanded attention.  
"I'll come back tomorrow."  
"We'll be here."  
"Weren’t you surprised when I didn't recognise you?" Sherlock asked as they walked down the stairs.  
"I was; at first I thought that it was because of the drugs. Then later you told me that you delete useless data, so I figured you did the same with me. You must have remembered something, deep down, because you trusted me immediately."  
"Look after him...please."  
"I always do."

Sherlock came back the next day.  
"How's he?"  
"He's not drugged."  
"You don't seem happy about it."  
"He's not eating properly, he keeps ignoring me; he hasn't slept a wink all night long...me neither."  
"I watch him if you want to sleep."  
"Are you sure?"  
"Yes."  
"Thanks." Greg said gratefully. Sherlock went upstairs and stood in the doorway.  
"I'm still alive Gregory." Mycroft said without looking up from a book.   
"I'm glad. What do you remember from yesterday?" Mycroft looked up.  
"Everything."  
"You fell asleep."  
"I know, but still..."  
"What did she tell to you?"  
"Nothing."  
"Don't lie to me Mycroft. Did she tell you to kill yourself?" Mycroft just stared at him. "She did. Will you do it?"  
"No."  
"Are you sure, she can be very persuasive."  
"I'm not a goldfish Sherlock; she can't do that to me."  
"Tell me a reason why you wouldn't do it."  
"Gregory."  
"Did she tell you anything else?"  
"She did."  
"What?"  
"Doesn't matter."  
"What was it?"  
"Sherlock, please."  
"She was the one who said that we'd be better off without you."  
"Not only. She said that I'm still as weak as I was...I couldn't kill her back then nor now."  
"Kill her?"  
"I couldn't she gave me the gun so I'll kill myself or her. I know I should have, we'd be all safe then, it would be over, but I couldn't. Then she jumped at me screaming that I'm a monster, which I am, I know that. She'll remain closed up on her own for the rest of her life, without human contact...after I left Gregory I felt so lonely, I visited her for the first time in years. She looked at me and started to laugh; when she stopped she said that at least now I know. I kept visiting her, she was the only one who talked to me, the only one who was interested in me...After Gregory's divorce I stopped with the visits...she wanted to know why, but I didn't tell her. She kept asking me why, why, why...then she just stared down at me when I broke down. I couldn't hold it together...I begged her to kill me, I forgot about you and Gregory and Anthea, I just wanted it to end...I abandoned her then you then Gregory, then her again...it's just too much..."Mycroft covered his head with his arms.  
"What is?"  
"The guilt, shame, fear..." he started to shake, Sherlock put his hand to his shoulder, but he shook it off and lied down with his back to Sherlock. "You see I'm the monster in the family...she just killed a few people. I killed thousands and thousands of them. I destroyed even more lives...I destroyed our family! She should have killed me! You should have killed me!"  
"My...please."  
"Where is he?" he whimpered.  
"Who?"  
"I need him."  
"Lestrade is sleeping."  
"Gregory..." he whimpered.  
"I go and wake him."  
"No, don't! I can't do this to him." Mycroft started to cry. Sherlock took out his phone and texted Greg who came up immediately.  
"I told you not to wake him! I'm fine Gregory, go back to sleep...I'm fine." he whispered.  
"No you're not love." he pulled Mycroft to his arms and kept stroking his hair.  
"I'm sorry...I'm so sorry Gregory...I'm sorry." he whispered between sobs.  
"It's okay My, it's all right...you are safe. I love you, we love you...it's not a problem for me, it never was, you know it...It’s going to be all right."


	13. Chapter 13

Mycroft stepped out of the elevator with fear; he looked around with confusion until he found Greg, who was sitting by a table waving at him.  
"Gregory, you are fine! Why did you do this? Calling me to the hospital, not telling me what happened? Who are we visiting?" he pointed at the stuffed fox. "Don't tell me Rosamund got sick."  
"No, she's fine. Do you remember?"  
"I do, you keep bringing it up." he sat down.  
"What?"  
"The fox and the little prince." he chuckled  
"Yeah, but it's not that." Mycroft looked around more cautiously.  
"Oh! What are we doing here?"  
"You tell me."  
"You know I can't read you, please Gregory, tell me. I had enough anxiety for today. Just you know I almost had a panic attack when I read the text!"  
"Sorry I thought you'll remember."  
"I couldn't, my brain went into panic mode. Tell me so we can go home, please."  
"Here you go." Greg handed him the fox.  
"You brought me here to give me a stuffed fox!" Mycroft said with disbelief, Greg rolled his eyes. Mycroft looked at the toy more cautiously; he read the ribbon around its neck.  
"Gregory?" he asked shakily.  
"Yes love?"  
"What is this?"   
"What do you think?"  
"Gregory..." he whispered.  
"What do you say My?"  
"Yes!" he hugged him. "Can we go home now?"  
"You really don't like hospitals."  
"No and you know this perfectly well." Mycroft pulled him up. "Why here?"  
"Because this is where we first met. If I hadn't collected my courage to talk to you...that would have been the biggest mistake of my life. I'm sorry I brought you here love."  
"It's okay...it's not that bad." Mycroft was tightly clutching his arm.  
"We are out!" Greg announced.  
"Good." Mycroft pulled him to a kiss. "I love you but please don't do this again."  
"I promise I only ask for your hand once. Let's go home."  
"Please."

They were sitting in the garden; Mycroft was fiddling with the fox absentmindedly.  
"What is it My?"  
"Hmmm?"  
"It won't put me in more danger love."  
"I hope so."  
"Then what is it?"  
"I'm not sure...I mean I was just thinking."  
"About what?"  
"How to keep it hidden."  
"We managed to keep it a secret this long; I don't think it'll be a problem. You already have a ring, although I'd like you to change it."  
"Naturally. I meant the wedding. Where to have it..."  
"Oh god."  
"What?"  
"I just gave you more things to worry about."  
"Then make me forget." Greg kissed him and shifted so he was sitting in Mycroft's lap. Mycroft cupped Greg's face. "Hello my gorgeous fiancé." Greg panted when they finally parted; Mycroft pulled him to another long bruising kiss which was interrupted by Mycroft's phone. He grunted when he looked at the screen. "I'm sorry my dear. Don't wait up." Mycroft answered the phone, his posture and voice changed immediately.  
Greg was already sleeping, when Mycroft gently woke him. "What...My?" he mumbled sleepily.   
"Sorry, I have to go in. Call mummy in the morning, please."  
"Ahamm." Mycroft placed a kiss to his cheek, Greg smiled and immediately drifted back to sleep.

Mycroft was sleeping when Greg got back from work. "Gregory." he mumbled when Greg got in next to him.  
"Sorry love." Mycroft snuggled close to him.  
"It's okay. Did you call her?"  
"Yes, I called everyone."  
"Who else?"   
"My father and Sherlock too."  
"Oh, yes...what did she say?"  
"She...well..."  
"Was out of her mind."  
"Something like that. She said we have to hold it at their place, she already started to arrange everything." Mycroft chuckled. "You knew she would."  
"Suspected."  
"Are we going somewhere...to a honeymoon, I mean."  
"If you want to."  
"Do you want to My?"  
"It would be lovely to spend time with you away from everyone. We could do whatever we want."  
"Sleep."  
"I love that you can read my mind." Mycroft chuckled and kissed him. "Where to?"  
"Your choice. It was always me who chose, and you always left me after a day or so."  
"I'm sorry, I had to work. I'll try this time."  
"I know, I know. You have to save the world. So where to?"  
"I have an idea, but it's a surprise."  
"Okay."  
"Anthea and her husband will have to come with us although."  
"But..."  
"Don't worry they won't bother us. We'll be alone. We need Anthea in case of work; she might be able to handle it on her own. Also we need her husband because I don't drive and for other reasons."  
"Don't tell me he's one of your black suited boys."  
"He's retired, but he's willing to help out."  
"Fine, but are you sure that they won't..."  
"We'll stay in two different houses, promise."  
"Okay. Houses?"  
"Don't worry they are my property."  
"Good lord, how many houses do you have?"  
"Few. You'll know about all of them."  
"We'll visit all?" he said hopefully.  
"We might, you've been in few of them already."  
"Which?"  
"Not telling. Sorry, but..."  
"You have to keep it a secret. It's okay. How will I know it then?"  
"In case of my death you'll inherit them and most of...."  
"No!" Greg sat up.  
"Yes, Anthea will get a reasonable amount. Sherlock, well you or she has to manage his share; I'm afraid what he'll do if he'd get all of it at once. And the rest is yours."  
"Please don't do this to me."  
"What else you suggest?" Mycroft looked up at him.  
"Don't change the old will or change it back, please."  
"But I just want to make sure..."  
"I know love, but please don't. I'll be fine; I was always fine." Mycroft looked at him pleadingly.  
“But…”  
"Please love."  
"I'll think about it." Mycroft fell silent.  
"Will you tell me what to pack?" Greg broke the silence.  
"I will, most likely we can go on the summer." Mycroft answered distractedly.  
"Sounds good. Now you need sleep. Good night."  
"Night Gregory." he whispered.

 

"Love? Are you up there?"  
"Yes."  
"Finally, I thought you ran away again." Greg answered relieved as he climbed up the tree. "It's still in a good condition." he said as he sat next to Mycroft in the tree house.  
"My parents had it renovated for Rosie and maybe for a grandchild, they're hoping for at least one from Sherlock and Molly."  
"Not from us?"  
"I don't think it would be wise Gregory; I'm sorry. We are barely home; I can't guarantee the safety..."  
"I was kidding, don't worry. I'm too old for that anyways. What happened My?"  
"Nothing, why do you ask?"  
"I woke up alone; you have a tendency to disappear."  
"I just needed to think."  
"Oh..."  
"No, no I haven't changed my mind, don't worry."  
"I'm glad. So what's up?"  
"If I hadn't thrown the book at Sherlock, we'd never met. It's strange one of the worst moments of my life leading to the bests. I did nothing to deserve you." Greg hugged him.  
"Me neither; but here we are."  
"I love you so much Gregory."  
"I love you too. Come on, we have to get ready." They climbed down.  
"There you are! Mummy thought you've changed your mind. She'd never forgive that to you. You haven't?" Sherlock was waiting for them in the kitchen.  
"No Sherlock."  
"Good, I suggest you have breakfast before she gets back...Too late!"  
Mycroft's mother came in."What are you standing around? I have things to do so out of the kitchen! Now! Out, all of you!" she ushered them out of the kitchen. Everyone left to get ready.

"How do I look?" Greg asked and turned around.  
"Gorgeous. You always look amazing in a suit." Mycroft stepped to him to adjust his tie.  
"I also look good without it." he said with a smirk.  
"Behave Gregory." Mycroft scolded him gently patting his nose with a finger.  
"Abuse, abuse! Somebody help me, my fiancée beating me! "Mycroft hugged him. "Thank you Gregory."  
"What for My?"  
"For everything you did for me." they stood there until Sherlock came to fetch them.  
"We can't wait forever, you two!"

"Boys you have fun, I'll go and sleep." Mrs. Holmes stood up. "Say goodnight to Mycroft too." Greg looked around.  
"Oh! Where is he?" he asked worriedly.  
"I think he went inside with Anthea." John answered.  
"I better check him." Greg climbed the stairs worriedly. "My!" he said relieved, when he found Mycroft in bed. "Are you all right?" there was no answer, so Greg stepped to him. Mycroft was under the blanket shaking, he gave out a little whimper when Greg placed a hand to his forehead. "What's wrong love?"  
"Too much." he whispered.  
"Oh, I see, I'm sorry." Greg left and came back with another blanket; carefully not to touch Mycroft he covered him with it. "I love you Mycroft."  
"Have you found him?" he met Mrs. Holmes at the bottom of the stairs.  
"He's sleeping."  
"I go too." Greg stepped to her and hugged her. "Thank you." she patted his back. "Goodnight Greg."  
"Good night."

Mycroft woke up in the morning; he found the other side of the bed empty. He walked down, and found Greg sleeping on the sofa; he placed a kiss on his temple and went to the kitchen.  
"Don't tell me you already fought? He's a treasure that boy; don't ruin this."  
"I won't, promise. There was no time for that anyways. I went to sleep before everybody; he was too tired or drunk to come up, I guess. I help you clean up."  
"Thank you."  
Greg soon woke up; he stepped to Mycroft and looked at him questioningly. Mycroft slightly shook his head. "Sorry." he whispered.  
"It's okay." Greg stepped back.  
"Is it?"  
"My, please." Mycroft turned and went back to the garden. "Mycroft, please! I love you no matter what. I wouldn't marry you if I'd be bothered by these nuisances." Greg followed him.  
"Nuisances?" Mycroft put down the plates. "Me having depression, panic attacks, not being home, keeping secrets, cancelling dates, disappearing..."  
"I only agree with the disappearing, I'm scared when you do that. I understand My, yesterday was too much for you; you need a little time alone, I know it. I was surprised that you stayed out with us that long. You'll come to me when you feel like it, I know."  
Mycroft picked up the plates and marched back to the kitchen; Greg followed him with a deep sigh.  
"What is it?" Anthea asked when Mycroft stormed past her.  
"Do you really have to go?" Greg looked at her pleadingly.  
"Yes, what happened?"  
"He just needs a little distance now; it's back again so..."  
"Oh, you know what to do."  
"I know."  
"What is back?" Sherlock poked his head into the kitchen.  
"Nothing that would interest you. Look after him Greg." Anthea walked out.  
"Lestrade, tell me! Mycroft is out smoking again. He only does it when he's stressed. So...why would he be after the wedding?"  
"It's not like that Sherlock. Just because something good happens it won't disappear."  
"What?"  
"Depression."  
"He's not...I never saw it...It's not true."  
"It is, believe me. He hides it well."  
"Since when."  
"He was first treated when he was twelve, since that on and off."  
"No." Sherlock stood up.  
"Leave him be now Sherlock. He needs a little time alone." to Greg's surprise he sat back.

Mycroft was out in the front smoking, he lit one after the other.  
"Stop this!" Anthea stepped to Mycroft.  
"Have a safe journey, thank you for coming." Mycroft put on a false smile.  
"Stop it, now." she took the cigarettes from him. "That's all?" Mycroft nodded. "Do you love him?"  
"Anthea..." Mycroft said wearily.  
"Answer me!"  
"Yes."  
"Does he love you?"  
"Yes."  
"Has he done everything for you?"  
"Yes."  
"Any complaints?"  
"Yes." Anthea tilted her head. "No."  
"Did he marry you?"  
"Yes."  
"So…Let him take care of you. Please." Mycroft nodded. "Good. I'll know if you won't." she handed the phone to Mycroft. "It's her; you need to talk." Mycroft nodded with defeat. "Thank you, see you on Monday."  
Mycroft was still on the phone when Sherlock, Molly, John and Rosie came out with bags, they waved him goodbye and got into the car. He went in after he finished.  
"Where is everybody?"  
"They went home. Anthea to Jasper, I talked with Molly, she understood what's going on, so she offered that they leave, Sherlock follows her anywhere and John wouldn't want to stay that way either. Your mother is upstairs and your dad in his study. Come." Mycroft followed him to the living room. "I set up the sofa for you, blanket, tea, book, your phone and laptop, you can work if you want to; I know it's a good distraction for you. I know that not now but you should call Dr. H."  
"I already did."  
"Good, that's good. I'll be here just call if you need anything."  
Mycroft settled on the sofa and watched Greg as he continued with the clean up. He was packing the tables and chairs away, he turned to find Mycroft standing behind him.  
"What is it love?" Mycroft launched forward and wrapped his arms around him.   
"I love you Gregory, more than you could imagine."  
"I love you too My. Please don't forget it."


	14. Chapter 14

"No, no, NO!" Mycroft was pacing.  
"Mycroft, please listen to me."  
"NO, I won't allow it. We can try..."  
"No, Love this is my decision, I want this and it's done. Please you have to understand it, I'm tired, I don't want to go through this again."  
"No, I don't want this. Please; I need more time, please."   
"I know and I'm sorry."  
"It's my fault...mine!"  
"How would it be? This was always a possibility, we knew..."  
"If I hadn't listened to my uncle, if I'd talk to you, we could have had so much time. I was weak and now...I need more time...I don't want to...please don't leave me. Please!" his tears were falling; Greg looked at him with a soft smile. "Mycroft, come here."  
"NO! Don't do this, don't smile like that...don't you dare. You can't do this to me, please...please, I don't want to be alone, not again."  
Greg held out his arms. "Come here love." Mycroft slowly stepped closer; Greg pulled him down to the bed. Mycroft curled up his head resting on Greg's chest tightly clutching onto him; Greg stroked his hair. "Shhh, shhh, it's okay. It's going to be all right."  
"No it's not." Greg kissed the top of his head.  
"Yes it is. Now let me tell you a story. Once upon a time there was an auburn fox. He was different than the others; very different and because of that he was constantly tormented. One day he decided to leave; he thought it'll be easier that way; on his own, no one there to hurt him. During his journey he was approached by a lonely gray fox who was without hope and friends. The auburn fox was on his own for so long he didn't know how to react to his approach, finally the gray fox managed to get him talk; they got close, they understood what the other needed, they helped each other through all kinds of difficulties, also having the best time of their life. Despite the happiness, one evening the gray fox found himself on his own. He was heartbroken, they both were, but he understood why the other left. He wanted to protect him from the others, who kept hurting him because of the auburn fox. The gray fox finally made peace with being on his own again, when he met a young fox, lost, confused; he reminded him of his long lost partner. He helped the youngster to get by; one day he realised that someone was watching them from the distance. The gray fox knew who it was, but he waited until the other approached him. They were inseparable after that...The sickness was quiet, when they realised it, it was too late. The auburn fox tried everything, there was no stone unturned, but there was nothing more to be done. He couldn't accept it; he didn't want to lose his best friend, his partner. He was scared; scared of being alone, but he's not, never." Greg gently nudged Mycroft to turn to the door. Mycroft saw on the corridor Greg's father talking to his father; his mother with Rosie; Sherlock terrorising the doctor and John trying to ease the damage; Anthea hiding behind her phone, constantly glancing towards Mycroft an Greg.  
"You see, you are not alone love, never."  
"I hate you." Mycroft answered as he settled back.  
"I love you too. You have to promise that you won't..."  
"I'll try."  
"I'll need better than that. You have to promise." Mycroft remained silent.   
“Mycroft can I ask you something?"  
"Anything."  
"I want to go home."

 

Greg was sitting in the office when Sherlock arrived; he looked up and closed the book. Sherlock placed a small package on the table.  
"Thank you." Sherlock didn't answer. "Tea? We need to talk." Greg stood up slowly.  
"Are you all right?" Sherlock scanned him worriedly.  
"Just tired. Come." they slowly walked out of the office.  
"What do we need to talk about?"  
"Mycroft."  
"What about him?"   
"He'll need you, more than ever." they walked in silence. "He loves when I stroke his hair." Sherlock looked at him with confusion. "It's not my brain slipping; you need to know these things." They got to the kitchen Greg poured tea for them and put out cookies too.  
"They'll go bad if you don't eat them. We compete whose eating less; I don't have an appetite, and your brother...he always had problems with it. He comes home, hasn't eaten all day, I can't force enough into him, we argue, he feels guilty and closes himself to one of the rooms, I beg for him to come out; this is our routine almost every evening. It won't be easy but you have to make sure that he eats. He'll need lots of looking after Sherlock; a lot, believe me. Although he plays that he's fine on his own he needs human contact...don't frown, he does. Mostly it's enough if you are in the same room, but he'll need you to be there. There'll be times when you'll have to hold him, stroke his hair, that'll calm him eventually. I know it won't be easy to determine what he wants, but if you wait he'll come to you, look for your company...You'll have to call Dr. H., she knows him, he trusts her. There is two scenarios after my death, he'll bury himself in work or stay in bed all day long...what else. Oh yes he tends to run away, or disappear he did it first after your accident and several times later, so be prepared to look for him, of course the best would be to prevent it. I made him promise he won’t do it again, but...There's so much to tell! Don't let him drink and smoke...and..."  
"Why are you doing this?"  
"Because we're both suffering." Greg answered wearily. "He tries to hide it from me, he does a great job with it, but I can see it. He is terrified, every time he comes home he's frightened from what he'll find, then he's relieved when he founds me still alive. We spend our evenings he reading to me or watching movies, Mycroft curled up next to me, pretending that we're still young, living in the small flat...I comment the movie like I used to...He tries to convince himself that everything is all right and this is just a nightmare and that everything will be all right. Of course he knows...” "Why ask me? He could get it and you wouldn't have to worry about me being caught with it."  
"I know he would do it, without hesitation. That's why I asked you. Don't tell him, please."  
"When..."  
"I'm not telling it to you."  
"Will he be here?"  
"No, absolutely not. He won't be able to bare it. No it'll be better for him and me too. He would sit next to me, looking at me with his beautiful blue eyes..." Greg's voice broke, so he quickly drunk his tea. "He only sleeps if I manage to drug him, which is not easy..." Greg continued with the advices.

Mycroft got home, he walked through the house with ever growing worry; finally he found Greg in the garden.  
"Gregory?"  
"Hi there." he turned to greet him.  
"Don't you want to come in? It's getting cold." Mycroft kissed him.  
"It's not My. But if you are worried why don't you come here and keep me warm?" Mycroft sat down; Greg leaned to him so he could wrap his arms around him.  
"I have something for you love." Greg gave him the book. Mycroft opened it and giggled. "The little prince."  
"Yes, remember you once said that you are the fox and I'm the little prince."  
"Once? You kept bringing it up!"  
"Who doesn't like to be a prince?" Greg kissed Mycroft. "Anyways, you said that you love my handwriting, so here it is. I copied it, I also did the drawings, with little changes.” Mycroft looked through the book.   
"It's beautiful, thank you." he whispered, it took him a great effort not to break down.  
"Read it to me, please."  
"Of course my dear." Mycroft kissed him and started to read, he continued until the sun started to go down. "We should get inside now Gregory."  
"Okay, you have to eat."  
"You too." Greg cautiously watched Mycroft who ate a little this time.  
"Will you finish it?"  
"I'm not hungry anymore."  
"I meant the book."  
"Of course, come on." Mycroft helped Greg upstairs. He continued with the reading, Greg fell asleep, but he finished it anyways. He quietly slipped out of bed and called Anthea.  
"Is everything all right?" Anthea asked worriedly when Mycroft didn't speak.  
"No." his tears started to fell.  
"Should I go over?"  
"No, no need, thank you. Just...can you...He's sleeping." he whispered.  
"That's good. Have you eaten?"  
"A bit. He made me a book."  
"I know I helped him."  
"Of course. It's very nice...I don't want to...I don't want this!"  
"Do you want me to clear you schedule?"  
"No, thank you. I can't......he wouldn't let me..." he mumbled.  
"Try sleeping a bit Mycroft."  
"I...don't want to...I can't...I'm sorry Anthea. Good night." he put the phone down and turned to go back to the bedroom, but he couldn't. He didn't want to wake Greg with the sobs that took over him. He settled in the office clutching to the stuffed fox looking through the book until he finally stopped sobbing. He got back to bed, but he couldn't fell asleep. He kept looking at Greg who was sleeping peacefully next to him, there was no sign of pain or trouble on his face.   
Mycroft's alarm was ringing.  
"Don't forget to eat something."  
"Sorry I woke you."  
"No worries. Come here." Mycroft laid his head on his chest and Greg wrapped his arms around him.  
"What are you planning for today Gregory?"  
"Hmm, I'll cook, there's a movie I want to watch, and I have to go through some papers...the rest I'll figure. Have a nice day My. Don't forget to eat, please" he kissed him.  
"You too, don't stay out for too long, you'll catch a cold. I love you Gregory."  
"I love you too Mycroft. Now go and save the world." he kissed him and gently nudged him out of bed.

Mycroft was in a meeting when he got the text.  
'I love you My, more than anything.' he read it and immediately knew what happened, he put his phone away with a shaking hand. Anthea saw it, she cleared Mycroft's schedule and called for the car. Mycroft managed to finish the meeting without a blink. Anthea stepped to him when they were alone. "The car is ready." Mycroft only nodded and took her hand.

Mycroft sat in the kitchen staring at his hands while Greg was taken away, Sherlock stood next to him not being able to look at Mycroft. When they remained alone, Mycroft stepped to him and hugged him tightly. "Thank you."  
"Whatever for?"  
"You know." they stood there for a long time.  
"Mycroft?"  
"Hmmm?"  
"Can I sit down? I'm a bit tired."  
"Sorry."  
"No, no; I'm sorry."  
"I need tea." Mycroft turned to put the kettle on. They were sitting at the table drinking tea. "I wasn't kidnapped; I ran away that's how I met him. It was strange; few days were enough for me to get attached to him. "  
"I know, Greg told me."  
"Why?"  
"So I can make sure you won't run off again."  
"When?"  
"Few days ago."  
"That's when you..."  
"Yes."  
"Why you? I would have done it for him; I would. I would do anything for him!"  
"I asked him the same question. He said, that's exactly why, I don't understand what he meant by that?"  
Mycroft didn't answer for a long time. "Thank you."  
Sherlock stood up. "I should go now."  
"No, please. Would you stay Sherlock? Please, please." Mycroft looked at him pleadingly. "I don't want to be alone."  
"Okay."  
"Thank you Sherlock." Mycroft answered with relief.

Sherlock was woken by a noise, he rushed to Mycroft's room to found him on the ground, curled up, tightly clutching the fox.  
"Mycroft, are you all right?" a little whimper was the answer. "Come on, you should get back to bed, you'll catch a cold."  
"Don't care." Mycroft mumbled.   
"Come on Mycroft, please do it for me. Please." Mycroft didn't protest when Sherlock helped him back to bed. "Try and get some sleep."  
"I can't, I miss him so much. I need him...I want him back, I want him now!"  
"I know, I know." Sherlock awkwardly patted his back.  
"I wish I'd been here with him, I should have been..."  
"He didn't want that. He asked me not to tell you about any of it, he didn't tell me when he was planning to do it either."  
"I should have stayed home."  
"He knew that you wouldn't be able to bare it, he wanted to protect you."  
"Of course he did." Mycroft started to cry, Sherlock wasn't sure what to do with him. Finally he decided to pull Mycroft into his arms, stroking his hair; like he saw it from Greg. It was a long time before exhaustion took over Mycroft.

Sherlock hoped to see his brother fully dressed ready for work in the morning; he hoped. He could have dealt with that but, instead Mycroft was still in bed staring blankly at the empty space next to him.  
"Mycroft you have to get up."  
"Whatever for?" he mumbled.  
"We have work to do."  
"Anthea can do it."  
"I have to work and you're coming with me."  
"Why?"  
"I need your help. Come on, I'll let you deduce." Mycroft didn't move. "You can insult them or get them kidnapped if they are too annoying or whatever you like. What do you say brother mine?...I let you kidnap John, I know you like to see him annoyed....I don't want to leave you alone." he said finally.  
"All right." Mycroft slowly got out of the bed.

When they arrived at Baker Street a line was already waiting for them, Mrs. Hudson greeted Sherlock angrily.  
"Where were you Sherlock dear? Look!" she pointed at the crowd. "Morning Mr. Holmes."  
"Good morning Mrs. Hudson."  
"What is he doing here?" she whispered to Sherlock as they climb the stairs.  
"John didn't tell you?"  
"Tell me what?"  
"Greg died yesterday."  
"Oh, dear." she stopped.  
"I don't want to leave him alone."  
"Yes, yes that's good." when they got to the flat Mycroft sat to John's chair. He didn't realise that someone was talking to him until Mrs. Hudson touched his shoulder.  
"Tea?"  
"Yes please." he whispered.  
"Yes, a nice cup of tea is what we need, and then you can get to work Sherlock before they start a riot."  
At first Mycroft just sat and hummed or rolled his eyes at the clients and Sherlock's showing off, after a while he had enough and took over the day. Sherlock let him do whatever he wanted, the cases were quite boring, nothing worthy of their attention. Mycroft sent off the last client just before John arrived.  
"Sherlock we talked about this, don't insult the clients that much so they leave crying."  
"She was a moron." Mycroft answered instead. "She thought that her boyfriend was kidnapped, the poor thing just ran away from her."  
"All right the same goes to you Mycroft, less insults more clients."  
"Sherlock said that I can do whatever I want."  
John decided to ignore it. He opened his mouth to say something else, but Sherlock cut him off. "John could you go to the store and fetch me a few things? We'll watch Rosie till that."  
"But we were just there! See." he pointed at the bags. Sherlock ushered Rosie to the direction of Mycroft and whispered to John.  
"I can see that, but he needs some stuff and I presume you don't want to sit and watch him while I do the shopping."  
"All right."  
Rosie was cautiously looking at Mycroft.  
"What is it Rosamund?" he asked wearily.  
"Where is Uncle Greg?"  
"He went away."  
"Where?"  
"Far away."  
"When is he coming back?"  
"Never."  
"I'm sorry." she answered with the wisdom of three years olds. "You can stay whit us." Mycroft looked at her with confusion. "So you won't be alone, I don't like being alone, no one should be."  
"It's very kind of you my dear." he said with a sad smile. Rosie left him to play with Sherlock. John got back and Mycroft started to feel like he was in the way, so he stood up to leave.  
"I better be going brother mine." he stood by the door.  
"Wait a second!" Sherlock returned with the bags.  
"Okay let's go." Mycroft looked at him with confusion. "I'm not leaving you alone brother mine, not now."  
"Thank you."

 

"What now?" he asked Anthea again. They were sitting in the kitchen after the funeral.  
"I don't know Sherlock. We just have to wait."  
"Wait for what? For him to die too! Because he will if he won't eat; I can't make him do anything. He just sleeps or pretends to be asleep all day long and wakes me up with screaming nightmares every night...it's too quiet."  
"What is?"  
"He should be up by now, he always does."  
"Maybe..."  
"I check him." Sherlock walked up with Anthea by his heel. Mycroft was lying in bed with his back to them.  
"See he's sleeping." Sherlock ignored her; he saw that Mycroft's breathing was too slow. He was by his side with a few steps and shook Mycroft.  
"Mycroft! Mycroft open your eyes! My do it!" a little whimper was the answer. "What have you taken? Tell me! Mycroft tell me!" Sherlock pulled back his eyelid. "Call John now!" he checked Mycroft's arms for a needle mark, there was none. Sherlock dragged his brother out of bed and to the bathroom. "No, no......no." Mycroft whimpered.  
Sherlock placed Mycroft next to the toilet holding him up with one arm and stuck his fingers down Mycroft's throat making him throw up. "That's it; you have to throw up brother mine, all of it. Mycroft how much did you take? My, tell me, please." By the time John arrived Mycroft stomach was empty.  
"I think we should take him in." John said after he heard what happened.  
"No!" Sherlock and Anthea detested.  
"We don't know what he took or how much of it."  
"Morphine, I think he throw up all of it. But better wash his stomach."  
"I still think..."  
"We can't, please John." Anthea said to him.  
"Fine, but if he gets worse, we are taking him in."   
Finally Mycroft was back in bed, John checked him regularly.   
"Sherlock go to bed, now. You'll have to watch him tomorrow."  
"It's my fault."  
"How would it be?"  
"I left him alone."  
"You were in the kitchen."  
"I should have seen it."  
"You know how easily Mycroft can hide his emotions...well everything from everyone."  
"Not from Greg...I should have seen it, I'm supposed to be smart."  
"I'm the smart one." Mycroft spoke weakly.  
"Mycroft! Don't you dare doing this again! Is there any more left?"  
"No."  
"Good..."  
"It's not your fault, go to bed Sherlock." he reluctantly left him.  
When Mycroft woke again John was still sitting by his bed.  
"How are you?"  
"I'm a failure."  
"Thankfully, but that's not what I asked."  
"My head aches, I'm sleepy, nauseous..."  
"As expected. Mycroft we need to talk."  
"No, we don't."  
"Yes we do, and since you are in no shape to run off..."  
"I miss him so much, I can't bare it." he whispered.  
"I know, but it'll get better, believe me. I know that now it feels like you can't live without him but you can, I felt the same way. It won't be easy but..."  
"I don't want to live without him! Those years were the worst; I don't want this, not again."  
"Mycroft we are here to help, you won't be alone. We can help...whatever you need just say it. We're not leaving you alone." there was no answer. "What would I do with Sherlock?"  
"Same as usual."  
"If you say that your brother would be indifferent about your death, you are an idiot." John immediately regretted what he said.  
"I am an idiot."  
"Mycroft..." he turned his back to John.  
"I'm tired Dr. Watson."  
"All right, we'll be here Mycroft. We're not going anywhere."

 

Mycroft was woken by Sherlock and Anthea arguing.  
"Can you keep it down?" Anthea shot a hateful look at Sherlock and left them.  
"What was that about?"  
"You. Will you try again?"  
"I don't know."  
"Then don't! You can't do this to me. I'm sorry Mycroft; I know it's hard now..."  
"But it'll get better; that's what everybody keeps telling me. Well it fucking won't!"  
"I don't know if it'll get better, I have no idea what are you going through right now. I wanted to say that I know that it's hard to find a reason to stay alive. I know that, but you helped me before, now I'll help you. You need help Mycroft. Anthea and I were arguing because if you stay away longer they will know it. Anthea said that you are under closer surveillance since Sherrinford, and this wouldn't help your status. According to her there is a possibility of forced retirement if they see that you...if they see you like this. And we both know that you'd get worse if you lose your job. I'm sorry we should have called Dr. H. earlier...this could have been avoided. I'm so sorry Mycroft. Anthea was busy covering for you and I...I should have called her. I'm so sorry."  
"I need time to think."  
"Don't worry I'll be quiet." Sherlock started to look through the room.  
"What are you doing?"  
"Checking for more things you can harm yourself with."  
"Good luck with it." Mycroft chuckled and turned to his side. After a while Sherlock dropped next to him.  
"There's too much."  
"Told you so."  
"Would you take this matter seriously Mycroft?"  
"Nope."  
"You're not funny My."  
"Don't!"  
"What?"  
"Don't call me that."  
"Sorry." Sherlock thought that he was sleeping when Mycroft spoke next to him.  
"I can go to work, I can do this; they won't be able to tell. They didn't realise it after Sherrinford or the first time. Anthea can manage that I meet Dr. H. regularly, they won't suspect it."  
"What about the meds?"  
"As usual the non-existing patient, uncle Rudy took care of it when it first happened." silence fell. "The inevitable end." he said after a while.  
"What is it?"  
Mycroft turned to face Sherlock. "The little Prince."  
"A children's book?"  
"It's on the nightstand; would you read it to me?"  
"Mycroft?"  
“He said once that I’m a cat, but I’m not that. I’m a fox and he managed to tame me...like the little Prince. He was patient and kind, he waited till I got close to him, till I opened up to him...He understood me like no one else......Please Sherlock. I always read to you; remember?"  
"All right." he started to read it, constantly glancing at his brother. Mycroft was awake curled up next to him tightly holding onto the stuffed fox. Sherlock finished it and put the book back to the nightstand. “You see now.” Mycroft whispered. Sherlock arranged the blanket around him and kiss his temple; he kept stroking his hair until Mycroft fell asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. I'll add more tags as the story develops.


End file.
